Without You
by archard-winchester
Summary: Sam didn't know how he'd come to this point. But one thing he knew for sure was that something had to change. Final chapter up. Eagerly awaiting reviews
1. Chapter 1 : Rejection

**Disclaimer:** I used to own supernatural, the boys, the Impala and everything else on the show. But then, the men in white gave me my meds and I had to take them.

**Summary**: Sam didn't know how he'd come to this point. But one thing he knew for sure was that something had to change.

**A/N**: I think I can finally write Sam the way he is now. But it's not gonna be pretty.

* * *

"Come on Sam. It's just for a few days." Dean did not know how to give up. The 4th of July was coming up and Dean wanted to visit Lisa and Ben for a few days. Take Ben out for some midnight fireworks, most of which would be illegal in the state. "It'll be fun. Like when we were kids."

"Selling me my childhood memories might not be the best way to go Dean." Sam never understood how Dean could cherish their youth when all Sam could remember was constant disappointment. "Look, I get you wanting to spend time with the your girlfriend, but why do you want me to tag along. You can just take a few days and join me up after I'm done with this hunt with Campbells."

"Sam, I'm really trying here dude." Dean's voice took on a pleading note. "I'm trying to put this family back together."

"Funny. Last time I checked it was you who was holding out on his family."

"It's just one stupid holiday."

"Exactly, it's a stupid holiday like many others to come. People are dying out there and somehow this is more important." Sam sighed, putting down the duffel he was hurriedly packing. He didn't understand why Dean was being so irrational. "You are being childish. It's not like I won't be with family. We'll get whatever is decapitating people and then, if you like, you can join us on the next one."

"Sure, whatever." Dean replied dejectedly. Sam hated watching his brother like that, but this was bigger. Dean had to realize that.

* * *

It's two weeks later when Sam realizes that he hasn't heard from his brother. He's not worried, because even if something had happened, he'd have heard about it by now. Dean probably just missed his normal life so much, he decided to stay an extra few days. Still, if for no other reason than to get an ETA, he called his brother up. His calls go to voicemail the first two times and just as he's about to hang up the third time and call Bobby instead, Dean picks up.

"Hey Sam, sorry couldn't come to the phone earlier." Dean says casually. "Got a bit tied up."

Sam knows what tied-up in their life means. "You alright? You on a hunt?"

"Yeah. Easy one." Dean replies."Nothing that I can't handle. You were halfway across the country and it was a piece of cake, so I didn't bother – you know – bothering you."

"If you say so." Sam was a bit confused. "Anyway, I'm with the Campbells in Detroit, hunting – well, we don't know what it is yet, but it's nasty. So if we could get some sort of time-frame on your arrival."

"Yeah – no, I guess I'll pass on this one. I figure you guys would be scraping its remains off the floor by the time I get there. Bobby has got something local for me. I think I'll handle that for now."

Sam was puzzled by Dean and a little hurt. Dean's hasty "Gotta go, talk to you later" didn't do anything to explain it. Neither did Bobby's revelation that the case he gave Dean was in Washington. It felt like Dean was avoiding him. Bobby's side was a bit more reassuring. Maybe, Dean just didn't want to hunt with the Campbells. Sam let out a frustrated sigh at that. What the hell was Dean's problem with them? They were hunters. Blood relatives. Hadn't Dean been going on and on about how the only trustworthy people in life were your family? _Seriously Dean_, Sam thought, _I know you have issues, but your insecurities are getting a bit old_.

Over the next few months, Sam became sure that Dean was avoiding him, not just the Campbells. Whenever he called Dean, he was either home or in the middle of a hunt. Usually, the hunt was almost over so there was no need for Sam to get over there. This was when Dean answered the phone at all. Most of the times the calls went straight to voicemail.

Bobby was no help either. After grilling Sam for an hour to think of any reason his brother might be pissed at him, he spent the next fifteen minutes trying to talk some sense into Dean. That did not work out, judging by Bobby's outraged expression and his "The son-of-bitch hung up on me". Finally, when Sam realized that it had been more than five months since he last saw Dean, he decided that enough was enough. Dean owed him an explanation, whether he wanted to or not.

* * *

He finally tracks down Dean in Georgia (Dean had indicated that he was heading in the general direction of Alaska). Dean didn't seem surprised at all to see him. He opened the motel room door without peeking first, like he'd been expecting him. He clapped him on the shoulder, welcomed him in, offered him a beer and sat him down for a talk. Sam was very much confused and couldn't make heads or tails of it.

"So Sammy, I'm glad you came down here." Dean talked to him as if they hadn't been practically estranged for last five months. "See, Lisa's got this friend who's sure she's being haunted. I told her I'd check it out, but can't exactly leave a hunt in the middle. Now that you are here, I was thinking, I can fill you in on this case and you can take over and I can go back and be a hero."

"Dean, what the hell is going on?" Sam's eyes searched Dean's face for a clue. "I don't see you for five months and now you are practically shoving me out of the door. What's going on with you."

"Nothing." Dean replied."I just thought we should be going on some separate hunts. We're not attached at the hip, you know."

They weren't, but Dean had spent most was his life trying to do that.

"Are you – breaking up with me?" Sam asked in a mocking yet nervous tone.

Dean sighed. "I just think we shouldn't hunt together anymore." Dean answered looking Sam squarely in the eyes.

"What? Why?" Sam stood up, putting down his bottle of beer. "Are you mad at me or something because I didn't come to your stupid family reunion? I'm sorry if you don't get it Dean, but I'm not exactly comfortable around the whole normal thing."

"That's not it Sam." Was Dean's only reply.

"Then what? Is it the Campbells?" Dean just shrugged. "It is, isn't it? Jesus Dean, would you just grow up? They are good people and you'd see that if you gave them a chance. I don't know if you're jealous or something because they got to spend a year with be while you didn't, but that's stupid Dean. We've spent our whole life together."

"That's not it, Sam" Dean replied. "I just don't trust those guys. Plain and simple. Which is why I don't want to hunt with them. Or see them. Ever again. I didn't want you to hunt with them either, but you didn't care for that."

"So what are you saying?" Sam said stonily. "It's either you or them, is that it?"

"No, I'm saying it's them. I don't want to hunt with you anymore, I told you that."

Anger and hurt flared up inside Sam, but he waited for Dean to explain himself.

"You are one of them now." Dean went on. "I don't know but since you got back - "

"Yes I know." Sam couldn't contain it any longer. "I'm different, I'm cold, I'm a monster made of stone. Got the memo, Dean. The first twenty-three times you sent it."

"You are not different Sam." Dean replied, surprising Sam. "You are you. Maybe more you than you've ever been. This is the person you have been becoming all your life. And I'm not going to try and change you into something you don't want to be, but I sure as hell am not going to put up with it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You have become like the Campbells. Like every other hunter out there. You don't care about anything other than the hunt. You'll do anything to get the job done, no matter how bad it is. You won't let your life or loved-ones slow you down on your mission. Its not like you are actually happy hunting, it's just something you do. And you generally don't care about what goes on with people around you. Congratulations Sam. You have turned into the man you once hated. You've turned into Dad."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

Dean smiled. "You know better than anyone that I worshipped that man. But I swear, right now, I'd rather say yes to Michael than hunt with him again."

"What are you saying Dean?" Sam had never heard Dean talk about their Dad like that.

"Sam, he lived a miserable life. And he could never let his kids have a moment of happiness or safety. Because there is always something more important that your children's happiness. And don't even get me started on the secrets and the lies. That man didn't trust me to do a single thing right. Not when we hunted together and not when he left me behind."

"Dad loved us Dean." Sam protested. "He was trying to protect us."

"Spare me. I've used every excuse under the sun to defend that man. And then some. Fact of the matter is Sam, no matter how much he loved us, it wasn't enough for him to actually care. He always had to do his own thing and to hell with what anyone else wanted. Everything else was simply secondary. And you are the same. You just make whatever decision you think is right and force everyone else to live with it."

"What decision?"

"You chose to shut me out, remember?"

Sam's jaw tightened. He'd stand by that one till the bitter end. "I thought I was doing the right thing. And it was Dean. You got Lisa out of it."

"I'm sure you are right. But you should learn to live with the consequences of your actions."

"Is that what this is?" Sam asked again "You are punishing me for freezing you out?"

"No. Am I not getting through to you?" Dean replied. "It's not who you're with or who you've become or what you have done. It's who you are. I just don't want to hunt with you anymore. It doesn't mean that I'm angry at you or I love you any less or I never want to see you again, it's just I can't be your hunting partner anymore. For my own sake. That's all it is."

_That's all, he says_, Sam thought. His brother just practically told him that his very soul was black and wants to cover it with that's all. Sam sat down dazed and confused while Dean packed up his belongings.

"The details of the case are on the counter , if you wanna take it up." Dean said from the door, about to leave. "Bye Sam, keep in touch."

* * *

I'm thinking of making it into a series of one-shots ending in the boys getting back together. What do you guys think?


	2. Chapter 2 : Resentment

**Disclaimer:** I used to own supernatural, the boys, the Impala and everything else on the show. But then, the men in white gave me my meds and I had to take them.

**Summary**: Sam's new life without Dean.

**A/N**: I'm sure I got Sam right in this one.

* * *

"You are kidding me." Gwen was outraged."He really said that? That he couldn't hunt with you because you are soulless?"

It was a typical post-breakup scene. Friends and family gathered around to provide support and trash the other party. Except it wasn't some random floozy he was infatuated with who broke his heart. It was his brother. The one person who'd always been there after all the heart-breaks and disappointments.

"He might as well have." Sam replied. "Look, it's not a big deal guys. It's not like I can't hunt without him."

"There is nothing wrong with you, you know that, right?" Samuel said, reassuringly. "You are a good hunter and a good man. Dean's head is just twisted from his stint in normal life."

Yeah, probably. Dean certainly had never been like that before- all cold and uncaring. If he thought something was wrong with Sam, he'd always try to fix it. In a way, Sam was glad Dean had decided to go solo. That way he wouldn't have to face all the judgment and disgust he'd been getting for the past few weeks.

"Dean's just not thinking straight right now." Sam agreed. "He'll be back. He always comes back."

"You are not thinking of taking him back are you?" Christian asked. "If it was my brother, I'd have punched him in the face and never talked to him again."

That would be the appropriate response, Sam thought. But Dean had forgiven him a lot in the past. And this was nowhere close in magnitude to the mistakes Sam had made. So yeah, He'd take Dean back. Be the forgiving brother for a change.

"You guys are making too big a deal out of it." Sam said, putting an end to the discussion. "Dean's gone. So what? It's not the end of the world. We still have hunts to do. Let's just focus on the job."

That'll show Dean, Sam thought. Show him that he wasn't the little brother who needed his hand held all the time. Dean might want him to be all weak and needy, but he was strong and independent. He'd survived a year without Dean hadn't he? All he wanted was support of his family and he had that in spades.

* * *

Bobby was squarely on Sam's side on this one, with all the outrage and indignance of an old hunter. Sam listened for over an hour as Bobby shouted at Dean over the phone for over an hour talking about importance of family and how you don't give up on them no matter how bad things were. And Dean had listened, not hung up like the last time. Finally, after Bobby had finished lecturing, Dean had just said, "You still haven't given me a good reason to want to come back" and hung up.

"Bobby, I don't want this to change anything between you and Dean." Sam had decided he'd take the high road in this one. Be the bigger man. "Dean's going to need all the help he can get, now that I'm not watching his back. And I want you to be there when he does."

"I'm always gonna be there Sam." Bobby replied."For you and for Dean. But I want you to know, I'm on your side in this. What Dean said and did was wrong and he shouldn't have left you."

Sam smiled at that. Now he was more confident than ever that Dean would realize his mistake and come back to him. Especially with Bobby nagging Dean every chance he got. This was one thing he took comfort in. All of his family had ended up on his side after this break-up. Except for the one person who mattered most.

* * *

In the end, it's Sam who made the first attempt at reconciliation. He heard from Bobby that Dean was on the trail of a wendigo and called to offer his help because you never go after something that good alone. Dad taught them that.

"Thanks Sam, but no thanks." Dean answered. "I can handle this alone. I don't need your help."

"Yes you do Dean." Sam shouted angrily. "And if you stopped being so arrogant, you'd realize that."

"Sam, really-"

"No Dean." Sam cut him off. "How many times did you almost die because you rushed in recklessly? How many times did I have to save your ass, because you didn't think before you acted?"

"Wow, I'm sorry mom". Dean replied. "I promise I'll look both ways before I cross the street."

"Don't patronize me, you jerk." Sam shouted. "You have to get it by now. You are not as good a hunter as you think you are. You may be good and all the fighting and killing things part but you are no better than anyone else. You always think you know everything even though you are wrong most of the times. You could never do your own research. You get easily distracted during the hunt by some girl or food. If it wasn't for me or Dad or Bobby, you'd be dead long ago. Face it Dean, one of these days your dumb luck will run out and I won't be there to save your ass."

"This is you offering your help?" Dean replied sarcastically."Well, since I already worked out that it's a wendigo – on my own by the way – I guess I'm covered for now. Thanks anyway, Sam."

Okay, it wasn't the best attempt at reconciliation, Sam thought as he threw away his cell. But atleast he was trying. These things needed to be said and Sam was done stroking his brother's ego. Dean was impatient and reckless. That equaled a bad hunter. He might do fine on his own when it came to some ghost or one or two vampires, but where the big leagues were concerned, Dean was an easy target. He never liked doing research and his idea of best-laid plans were to go in and kick ass. And Dean must know it too. Why else had he been so desperate to hunt with Sam or Dad all the time?

Sam fantasized about it sometimes- about Dean being desperate. Maybe Lisa and Ben would be killed by something Dean let get away and he would come back to Sam, all sad and broken, saying that Sam was right and he couldn't do it alone. He never dwells on those for long because he'd never want Dean to go through what he went through with Jess. Better scenario, maybe Lisa would dump Dean because of all the hunting and his past. Then Dean would come back broken-hearted. "I'm sorry Sam. You were right. The only ones you can trust are your family" Dean would say. And Sam would accept him back because he's his brother. And the Campbells would accept Dean with open arms, because Dean's family.

Yeah, right. Even in his fantasies Sam couldn't imagine that happening. The Campbells would accept Dean because they will never turn a hunter away, but Sam can't fool himself. They were not family, they were fellow soldiers in a war. And Lisa was probably the most understanding girlfriend on earth, damn her for that. No, the only way Dean would want his help was when he realized that he was up against something bigger than he could handle. Dean had to realize, and Sam hoped Dean wouldn't die before that, that he just wasn't good enough on his own.

* * *

As it turned out, Sam was wrong. Wrong that Dean wouldn't last a week without him when Dean had apparently lasted months. And when a veteran hunter you've just met looks at you in awe and says "Dean Winchester's brother?" you better believe that Dean must have impressed him somehow. It looked like now that Dean had no-one to do his grunt-work, he did it all himself quite well. He'd spend hours researching before he went in and always made plans over back-up plans. Looks like he is finally at his best now that no one is holding him back anymore, Sam thought. Even Bobby had nothing bad to tell Sam

"He's doing great Sam. – No, he doesn't talk as much to me after- well you know, but he calls time to time when he needs some research done, not as much as before though. – No I don't know how he's doing. He hasn't been along for a visit for some time and the last time he came he was all business. – Yeah, he's doing fine as far as I can tell. Really Sam, you don't need to worry. Your brother's doing a great job and I'm not just saying what you want to hear."

That wasn't what Sam had wanted to hear, he admitted ashamedly to himself. He wanted to hear that Dean was lost and floundering without him and he didn't care if that made him a bad brother. There was something crushing about feeling that no one needed you. And not just needed you for hunt, but needed you to feel alive. There should be atleast one person in your life who'd be inconsolable with grief if you died because that one person can make your whole crappy existence worthwhile. He had always thought that Dean was that person for him, but now he had no one. Maybe the Campbells- nah, who was he kidding? The Campbells would probably treat his death in the same manner they treated Mark's. He's dead? Salt him, burn him, have a drink and move on. Maybe not even that much, after all they'd known Mark for all their lives. Bobby would probably add an extra quarter of whiskey in his daily dose for Sam. And there simply wasn't anyone else. Maybe it was better this way. If no one cared, he didn't have to worry about leaving anyone behind.

* * *

The Campbells weren't happy about Dean's newfound proficiency either. Sam could never tell is they were regretting missing out on the better hunter or they were just resenting the competition. Dean's hunts interfered with theirs in the oddest possible ways. They'd need to summon some demon for information and they found out Dean had killed months ago. They'd need an extremely rare book on the supernatural and find out it was stolen by one Johnny Goode. Sam would know that alias anywhere.

Once they were hunting the sea-goddess Calypso- one of the sea-goddesses- who was having a temper tantrum off the coast of California.

"Calypso, like in the Pirates of Carribean?" Sam asked.

Samuel had looked on clueless, while Gwen and Christian sniggered and Sam had a mental image of Dean saying in his best Barbossa voice, "Arr matey. That be right. We be hunting the Goddess of the sea."

In the end, they never found a way to kill the goddess. Sam thought of the colt that was with Bobby, but as they'd found out, Gods were one of the five things colt can't kill. Big honking ancient Gods, not demi-Gods like the Leshi or the Christmas couple. So now the list was upto arch-angels, reapers, horsemen and Gods. The fifth place was still open.

They had finally found a ritual of appeasement, and even though the Goddess seemed to have calmed down, they decided to do it anyways for extra security. When they got to the spiritual spot where the ritual was supposed to be performed they'd found signs of a similar ritual conducted before and burnt remains that seemed to be leaking water. They never could get confirmation if another hunter had been there, let alone Dean. Other times, sighns of his involvement were much less subtle.

"Was your brother always such a busybody?" Christian asked Sam, putting down the phone he was talking into earlier."Did he always mess with other people's hunts?"

"What's going on?"Samuel piped in. Gwen looked up from her research, interested as well.

"Dean killed the shapeshifter. The alpha." He tracked the bastard down, put him down and left the babies with a bunch of witches."

"Witches? You mean -"

"Peaceful plant-growing wiccans not demon-worshippers. Can you believe it? The guy can't let me hold the kid but leaves the whole bunch with a coven."

"Wait, so the alpha is really dead?" Samuel asked.

"Yes, old man. Try to keep up." Christian replied angrily. "According to Dave, Dean hunted him down a few weeks back."

"How did Dean kill it? Nothing we had would even faze it." Gwen asked. Sam was interested as well.

"Don't know, don't care." Christian replied. "Jeez, how would he feel if we started barging in on his hunts?"

"This was Dean's hunt too." Sam defended.

"Dean was just a guest on this one Sam." Samuel answered. "I found the case and you handled it. Dean had no business butting in."

"What are you guys getting do pissed about?" Sam asked."We kill the shifter or Dean kills the shifter. End of the day, the thing is dead and the kids are safe. I'm not seeing the negative here."

"It's the principle of- " Christian starts, but Samuel cut him off.

"We weren't going to kill it Sam. We were going to capture it."

"What?"

"I have this friend who studies these things. Comes up with new ways to kill them or stop them." Samuel explained. "He's the one who came up with the antidote to Djinn poison. He's got a lot of hunters working for him too. We catch the monster and instead of killing it, we deliver it to him, for research."

"Why didn't you guys tell me this before?"

"We didn't know how you'd react to it." Gwen answered. "We were afraid you would start yelling that it was wrong and try to free them all."

"I'm okay with it." Sam replied."Really. I mean, it's weird capturing them instead of killing them, but we're learning more about them right? Why would I have a problem with that?"

"Well- "Christian looked uncomfortable, "your brother. He isn't the most open-minded person around is he?"

Damn, Dean again. Even if he wasn't there, he continued to cause problems for Sam. But Christian was right. If Dean was here, he'd stomp up and down, shouting about how wrong and sick and disgusting the whole business was without being able to give a single rational reason to support his argument. It wouldn't have mattered to him that they had done the same thing to demons when they wanted answers.

"I'm fine with it. Really. Just don't keep secrets like that from me anymore."

With a general expression of assent, everyone went back to business, while Samuel approached Sam to talk privately.

"Sam, I just want to say I'm sorry. We should have had more faith in you."

"It's fine." Sam answered.

"And – I know you have been carrying it with you for a while – but no one here thinks any less of you for the whole starting the Apocalypse thing."

Sam looked suspiciously at his Grandfather. Where was this coming from, suddenly.

"Look, I know you got addicted to demon blood and that was wrong and I wish we had been around then to help you through it."

"You were dead. But Dean was there."

"Dean just put a blanket ban on you drinking demon blood and using your powers. If he had been a little more understanding and supportive, all that crap might not have happened. All I'm saying is, that's not going to happen again. And I don't want you to start drinking demon blood again, but if anything ever happens with your powers, I want you to know, we are here to support you, not judge you."

Sam at once feels comforted and disquieted by those words. How would things have been any different? He'd have still ended up killing Lillith and freeing Lucifer. Only then, he'd be better primed to become Lucifer's vessel.

* * *

"Dean is afraid of flying, y'know." Sam commented.

They were on a flight to Brazil, where something big was going on. People were dying left and right for no apparent reason. Ordinary surgeries like appendicitis were failing. A fire in a movie hall that shouldn't have resulted in any casualties ended in everyone inside being suffocated to death. At some places people were dropping dead on streets with no apparent cause. The death toll had rise to over a thousand. The hunters over there had sent out an SOS to every contact they had, all over the world. And it'd ended in the four of them, Sam, Christian, Arlene and Gwen, on the flight to Brasilia. And they were not the only ones. Sam was sure he could spot atleast three more groups of hunters on the plane.

"Really. Interesting." Christian answered. "For all his tough guy act, you brother sure is a wimp."

Sam felt a flicker of defensiveness within him.

"Hey, everybody's afraid of something. I'm afraid of clowns."

"Clowns are one thing." Christian answered. "No one is asking you to go to a lot of circuses in this job. But flying, that's just stupid. You gotta learn to fly if you want to cover more ground. Besides, I'm sure if you ever had to hunt a clown, you'll be able to overcome your fear."

Sam took comfort in those words. He could overcome his fears. He had. Very well, in fact. Which was why he was going to handle the case in Brazil while Dean was toasting small fries back home.

Which was why he was as surprised as anyone could be when he saw Dean pacing up and down the airport's taxi-stand, taking intermediate swigs from his flask.

"Dean, what are you doing here?" Sam asked going over to Dean, alone. He didn't want any of the others to make a comment about his flying and start a fist-fight in another country.

"Hey, Sam" Dean was completely sloshed. "I'm hunting here. Hunt of the century. Hunters from all over the world pouring in. Wouldn't miss it for the world. Though honestly, " Dean added in a conspiring voice, " I think this all pales in comparison to the apocalypse, but sure as hell don't want that shindig to happen again."

"You flew here?" Maybe Cas had brought him here. That would make sense. Other than why Cas had dropped him off at the airport.

"Only way to travel." Dean answered, taking another swig.

Sam was still reeling from the shock of his brother willingly getting on a plane when another voice called from a distance.

"Dean, hurry up, would you?" It was a youngish, twenty-something guy, pushing a trolley full of luggage. "Jeez, for all your entire tough guy act you sure are a wimp."

"Go to hell." Dean replied amicably. "That's Cole, by the way." He explained to Sam.

"You hunting with newbies now?" Sam asked.

"Bobby asked me to show him the ropes." Dean laughed. "I guess he figured if I hunt with a partner again, I'll realize how much I miss you and beg you to come back."

"So, any progress on that yet?" Sam asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I miss you Sam. But I'm not joining up with you." Dean answered, suddenly serious. "Got to go. My flight leaves in an hour."

Sam's mind was stuck on the first part as he waved his brother goodbye. Only when he was out of sight did Sam realize what his brother had said. Flight? Was he leaving already? What about the hunt?

The hunt, as it turned out, was over. And no one knew what happened. No one knew what had been killing those people, how it had been doing it, who stopped it or how it was stopped. They couldn't even tell if it had stopped apart from the fact that people weren't dying anymore. For the first time in years, many hunters felt what civilians feel after they visit their towns. Utter confusion. And Sam couldn't get it either. If Dean had actually killed the thing, he'd be all over the town boasting about it. At the very least he'd tell everyone what it was and how to stop it. Apparently, Dean had changed. He had come into town, taken care of the monster even before Sam and his friends got there and walked away.

Dean had clearly become a very good hunter. Better even than Dad, in Sam's opinion. And he'd done this without giving up his family. Lisa and Ben, his new family, Sam reminded himself. Without dragging them into the hunting life and keeping them safe. Dean had become what was a myth in hunter circles – a hunter with a happy family. And Sam resented the hell out of him for that. Resented him because, where was this guy when Sam was with him? Where was this super-hunter when Sam used to slog around, doing research? Where was this stable family-man when Sam was growing up?

Maybe it was all true, only backwards. He'd always thought that Dean had been holding him back. Even accused him of that much. He always thought that being around Dean made him weak and vulnerable. But he hadn't felt any different since Dean was gone. Maybe he was the one making Dean weak and vulnerable. Maybe he was holding Dean back.

Weak. That's what he'd called Dean. The Campbells had certainly thought so, Gwen commenting on his delicate features, Samuel deriding his normal lifestyle and Christian mocking his time in hell. But Sam realized in hindsight that Dean had always had a different kind of strength. All the hunters he knew, including himself, every one of them was like a tall oak tree. Tall and confident in their own strength but each waiting for the final inevitable moment that would be their downfall. They could bear a lot, few , in fact , survived to the moment. But none survived after it, if you didn't count Martin in the loony-bin. Every one of them was living from day to day in fear of that final straw that would break them so badly that they would never get up again. Which was why they avoided happiness like the plague. They avoided forming connections because losing them might prove to be their undoing. They avoided even a single moment of rest and recreation because that would mean letting your guard down. Everyone, even Dad and Bobby. But Dean was different. He had had that moment many times. He'd been broken over and over again and still found the strength to put himself back together and move forward. And Dean knew it too. Which was why he was able to actually be happy with his life. And when Dean was with him, Sam could do it too. He knew that since he'd done it before. After Jess died, after he freed Lucifer, there was no way he could have gone hunting for long without getting himself killed, if Dean hadn't been there. Dean was the one who anchored him to this life. HE was the one who gave Sam strength to put his life back together again.

Which was why Sam would do anything to get his brother back. The idea that Dean would call for help was pretty much dead and buried now. Well, if Mohammad won't come to the mountain, the mountain must go to Mohammed. So the next time they get a baffling case they could make neither heads nor tails of, he called Dean for help. He left a long-winded message about how he was wrong and how he shouldn't have underestimated Dean. He apologized for whatever mistakes he made or Dean thinks he made and asked Dean to come help because they "really, really need help and you are the only one who can." He realized he's getting close to begging now, but according to Bobby, Dean had handled a case like this before.

"Why would you ask him of all people for help?" Christian was outraged. "He'd just come in and start barking orders like he owns the place."

The Campbells were not taking it very well. Christian didn't like Dean, Gwen was worried he'd try to put a stop to their extra-curricular activities and Samuel seemed perturbed.

"You sure it was a good call, Sam?" Samuel asked.

"Yeah. Dean has tangoed with something like this before. He might know how to deal with it."

"You are kidding, right?" Christian shouted at no one in particular.

"Chris if Dean can help us, we could use him." Samuel said. "If you have got a better idea, please share, because right now we can make neither heads nor tails of this thing."

"It's an Apostle." A voice said from behind them, making them jump up and reach for weapons.. "It's trying to send messages from what it thinks is a God, but that's not the case. It is more deadly because it has come into the possession of one of heaven's weapons. I need your help retrieving it."

It's Castiel.

* * *

The Campbells didn't celebrate anything. Not holidays or birthdays and certainly not successful hunts. But when an angel of the lord says "We did well here. We should celebrate", they fall in line and start drinking. Castiel, it appeared, was celebrating his re-found tolerance for alcohol by sampling every drink in the bar. Sam just hoped that Cas won't simply take-off and stick them with the bill.

"I'm surprised you took the time to come down here." Sam said. "Things going well, back home?"

"Yes, very well." Cas answered. "The civil war is over and we are heading back towards stability."

"Wow." Sam was impressed. "You guys beat team arch-angel? That must have been easy."

"No, Sam. It was extremely difficult." Cas replied, completely missing the sarcasm. "Without Dean's help, we never would've made it."

That made everyone at the table to sit-up.

"Dean helped you take over heaven?" Samuel asked. "He is not that good a hunter, no one is."

"He convinced the elder Gods to fight by our side."

"Elder Gods? You mean pagans?" Sam asked.

"Yes. I believe his argument was that if Raphael and his angels won, the apocalypse may be restarted and they wouldn't be comfortable with that. I like this drink." Cas said, finishing off his daiquiri. "I shall have another one of these."

"Wait, you are telling me that Dean just walked up to pagan Gods and said "You guys better help out my friend or else- ."" Samuel was incredulous

"That sounds like Dean." Sam smirked. He felt a little proud of his brother.

"I do not believe those to be the words he used. The elder Gods would not have been pleased." Cas answered. "But they do seem like something Dean would say."

"So why didn't you go to him for help on your weapon retrieval?" Sam said, feeling an odd comfort in being chosen by an angel over Dean.

"I didn't. Dean was the one who sent me here to help."

"What?"

"I believe you left Dean a message saying you required his assistance." Castiel reminded him. "Dean called upon me to assist you."

"And of course, you come running whenever Dean calls." Sam didn't know who he was angrier at right then, Cas or Dean.

"I had no choice in the matter Sam." Cas sighed. "Dean can control angels now."

"Come again?"

"Dean is in possession of the ring of Solomon." Cas explained. "He took it when we hunted Balthazar. Now he can summon angels against their will and force them to do his bidding."

"You mean Dean is going around turning angels into his bitches?" Christian asked indignantly.

"No, I do not believe angels would take kindly to that." Cas answered. "Dean has used it so far only to summon me. He never even forced me to do anything. I am here of my own accord. Why isn't my daiquiri here yet?"

"I'll get it." Sam said and went to the bar to order the drink. As he was waiting for the beverage, his phone rand and Dean's name flashed on the display. That was surprising. Since their separation, Dean hadn't called him once.

"Hey." Sam said casually into the phone. "Got your angel here. He's drinking our asses off."

"Yeah, he does that." Dean chuckled. "Hey Sam, I was wondering, maybe, if you are free next week."

Sam bridled at his tone. The called him after months of radio silence and that was all he had to say. No "It's been a long time" or "Great to hear your voice again".

"What's next week Dean? Some big hunt you need my help with?"

"Well, I don't exactly need your help but -"

"You know what?" Sam cut him off. "I'm busy next week. But I'll send you Castiel to help with your problem."

"What are you - "

"I asked for your help Dean." Sam practically yelled into the mouthpiece. "I asked for your help because I thought maybe my brother might have grown up a bit and gotten over his hissy-fit and actually care enough to come help me himself. Clearly not. So guess what. If you can't help me out, don't expect anything from me."

"Yeah, you are right." Dean sounded dejected. "I'm sorry. Bye Sam, great to hear your voice again."

Damn, that felt good. He might have crushed the hesitant olive branch he'd been praying for for months, but at that moment that felt good. Sam felt vindicated by delivering a measure of rejection his brother had so cruelly delivered to him. Sure he'd feel guilty in the morning, but not now, not yet.

"Your brother loves you Sam" Cas said from behind him. "And I know he misses you as well. He just has a difficult time showing emotion."

"You're telling the wrong guy Cas." Sam answered. "I'm not the one keeping us apart."

"Maybe if you just gave him what he wanted -"

"And what the hell is that, Cas? Do you know?" Castiel looked down. "Because I sure as hell don't. I've been over this things every which way and I still don't get what he wants from me. Wait, maybe I do. He probably wants me to be his useless baby brother he can take care of all day and who doesn't go to the bathroom without his big brother's permission. He probably wants me to be some fanboy who thinks that he walks on water and the sun shines out of his ass."

"I do not believe I know anyone who believes that." Cas answered seriously. "Oh, you weren't being literal? It's hard to tell with you sometimes. Well, maybe all Dean wants is for you to be a part of his life outside hunting. He said he didn't want to hunt with you but he never said anything about anything else."

"I really doubt that, Cas." Sam answered. "We don't have a life together outside hunting. Here's your drink."

"Thank you. Heaven requires my presence. I must leave now." And with that Castiel disappeared in a flutter of wings, daiquiri and all. Sam stared at the empty space for a moment, then headed back to tell the others the bad news – they'd have to pay Cas's mammothian drinking bill now.

* * *

A/N Hoping for good reviews. FYI Calypso is the name of one of the Goddesses of the sea. From Greek mythology, I think.

Also FYI, when I mentioned the Apostles, I was thinking more like the demons in 'Berserk' and less students of Christ. I just couldn't come up with another heaven related thing that could be a monster and the idea of rogue Angel seemed a bit tacky. So any religious offence is regretted.


	3. Chapter 3 : Revelation

**Disclaimer:** I used to own supernatural, the boys, the Impala and everything else on the show. But then, the men in white gave me my meds and I had to take them.

**Summary**: A study of Dean's motivations behind leaving Sam.

**A/N**: Well, as of last episode, my story officially became AU. I was trying to write this story with a Sam who, as cold as he might be, still loved Dean and cared about him, though in his own screwed up way. I no longer believe that as of the last episode. The thing is, I can never write a story ignoring canon. So I'll try to incorporate the recent developments the best I can. The last episode about the vampires made me lose faith in Sam and I'm sure Dean had lost faith in his brother as well. What I'm trying to do here is to try desperately to see some way Sam could be salvaged. Most of you won't like this chapter, especially Sam-fans. Bear with it; I still plan to end it with the brothers getting back together. But as of this chapter, that is going to seem impossible.

This probably won't end up going the way I thought. I usually don't write Dean's POV, because, even though he's my favorite, I love seeing him from Sam's eyes. But the last episode forced me into this. Hopefully this story will be finished before next week, so I don't have to change the plot anymore.

* * *

Monster. That's what his brother had become. A soulless, heartless vampire who sucked the life out of everything and everyone around him. For a long time Dean had ignored the darkness inside his brother, focusing on the good instead. For a long time he'd allowed Sam to go down the dark path, making furtive attempts at best to pull him back. And now Sam was at the end of the road and there was nothing but the darkness left inside him. And it was all Dean's fault.

It wasn't all Dean's fault. Dean would never be arrogant enough to believe that he controlled everything in his brother's life. A lot of the blame fell on Yellow-eyes and the twists of fate and manipulation he had brought upon them. Primarily, it was Sam's fault for allowing himself to be turned into this thing full of hatred and anger. And Dean realized that there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. He had made all the right choices, said and done all the right things and yet Sam had ended up the way he was.

Azazel had never expected Sam to become like this, this scourge of demons and monsters everywhere. His plan only went as far as Sam becoming Lucifer's vessel. After that, there wasn't supposed to be a Sam, just the fallen angel laying waste to earth. But Azazel wasn't here anymore. But Sam was. And Dean was. And they had to live with this version of Sam.

Sam's life had been a vicious cycle of making mistakes and seeking redemption. The irony was, it was usually while seeking redemption, when he started his making his next mistake. He had always been so determined to achieve his goals, so single-mindedly sought what he seeked, that he turned a blind eye to what it was doing to him and others around him till it was too late. He went after the normal life, ignoring the danger around them and that ended in Jessica burning. He sought redemption by seeking revenge until he realized he risked losing himself. He sought to salvage his humanity and that resulted in his brother going to hell. He attempted revenge once more and lost himself to addiction, leading to the release of world's greatest monster. His final act of redemption was to sacrifice himself to save the world. Sacrifice everything, his life, his soul, his humanity. And that should have been the end of the sad tale of Sam Winchester. But cruel fate would have none of it. It was having just too much fun watching Sam screw-up his way through life and now that Sam was back, his actions were worse than ever.

Dean wondered when Sam had started down this path, this dark quest for power. Maybe after he hadn't been able to save Jessica. Or maybe when he had been too weak to kill Dad when he had the chance and Dad had ended up dead anyway. But he clearly remembered when he saw the first sign of it, when Sam shot Jake, over and over, his victim's blood splattering on his face. Sam may blame Dean for judging him and condemning him but Dean knew there was no one in the world who understood his brother better than him. Not even Sam himself. Sam had always retained a little of his childhood innocence, his desire to be good person. But the moment he realized what Dean had done for him, something broke inside him. His innocence, his humanity had been weaknesses that had caused him to lose everything in his life. His dreams, his father, his brother, his family. And at that moment Sam had made the subconscious decision that he would never be that weak again. Never be so weak as to be just a puppet at the mercy of fate. No matter what life took from him or gave back, he wouldn't care because life could just take it all away as easily. He would be strong, so strong that nothing could hurt him anymore and if his humanity was a casualty in this quest, well, that was acceptable. Dean had accused Sam of becoming like John Winchester because he couldn't bring himself to state the truth. Sam was much, much worse that John. He was even farther gone than Gordon. He had become the worst breed of hunter, the ones who didn't care about the lives they saved, only about the lives they took. The kind, Dean had always kept his family away from.

Dean remembered when Sam had told him about the conversation he'd had with Ellen about Gordon. How Ellen had compared Gordon to Hannibal Lector, a good hunter, but dangerous to everyone around him. He wondered if Sam realized that's what he'd become now, something that had once relentlessly hunted him. Well, he really doubted it would matter, not with Sam like what he was. Sam no longer cared about being human, he no longer cared about those who loved him, all he cared about was the hunt and everything involved was an acceptable casualty. Dean could forgive a lot. He could forgive the lies and the secrets and the communions with demon. He could forgive Sam leaving him over and over again because it didn't change the fact that Sam loved him and cared for him and was only doing it because he thought it was for the best. He could forgive the addiction and the biggest mistake it caused. He could even forgive torturing innocent souls, using them as bait with the excuse that there was no other way. Because through it all, he'd never once doubted that his brother's heart was in the right place. That Sam still cared for all the right things. "You are my brother, Dean and I'd die for you", Sam had once said that. And Dean had believed him. He no longer believed that. Now, Sam wouldn't even risk the hunt trying to save him.

Sam still kept up the facade very well. Still wore the mask of the caring, bleeding-heart young hunter so well, that no one suspected him, not Bobby, not their extended family. He still pretended to be good, pretended to care but when you spend so much time in close quarters, it is impossible not to see through the cracks. And then had come the fateful time when Dean couldn't ignore it anymore. When he'd seen Sam watch quietly, as he got turned into a vampire, he realized that the brother he was so desperate for was long gone. He hadn't given up hope then. He'd tried to talk some sense into Sam. Then he'd tried to beat some sense into Sam. Sam had pretended to have learned the lesson, he'd pretended trying to be better, but Dean wasn't fooled anymore. His brother may pretend all he wanted, pretend to repent, pretend to care, but Dean could see past through it all. His brother had crossed the line form misguided to unforgivable. Sometime after hell and Lucifer and demon blood, when Dean hadn't been there, couldn't be there, Sam had finally lost the battle raging inside him. Dean wondered if the evil inside Sam was actually from the demon blood which like a seed that Azazel had planted long ago had now grown tall and over-shadowed everything else. He realized now that the darkness had always been within Sam. A darkness which had been kept in check by Dean's constant vigilance. But Castiel had said that the amount of blood Sam needed to contain Lucifer would change him forever. Maybe it was the combination of the blood and Lucifer's possession and hell and Dean's absence which had finally resulted in Sam losing the battle within him and become this grotesque caricature of himself. He had been tempted to take out the gun and shoot him then and there, to prevent this terrible creature from sullying the memory of his sweet little brother, but Dean, ever the optimist, still felt like he had a chance to salvage his brother.

Being his brother's salvation –that was nothing new for Dean. He had always been there when Sam screwed-up, helped him clean up his messes, helped him redeem himself and always forgave him. That's where he was at fault, he supposed. He always forgave Sam, too easily and too quickly, as soon as he thought that Sam had learned his lesson. But all seemed to have learnt is that no matter how badly he screwed-up, it would never be so bad that they won't be able to find a way to fix it. And now, as a result, his Sam was lost to him. Completely and utterly lost.

Or maybe not. There were times when he could see a flicker of his Sammy inside this cold Sam, like a prisoner calling out for help. Like every time when Sam called him for help and his disappointment when Dean refused. When he'd seen Dean take care of the baby and actually complimented him. Moments so rare and insignificant that if Dean hadn't been looking for them so desperately, he would have missed them completely.

Dean remembered fighting over Batman comics with Sam as a kids or even young adults. Light entertainment like that was something they both had enjoyed in their down-time together, even Sam, for all his intellectual bull-shit and love for classics. Dean remembered how Sam had always felt sympathized with Jason Todd, the lost son of the Bat-family. He saw how fate had twisted him and his ideals and turned him into a mockery of what he was supposed to be. He also remembered how the others in the family had never given up on him and he wondered if he would be strong enough to do the same for Sam.

Right then, Dean couldn't think of anything he could do to save Sam. Every path open to him ended in same way, with Sam becoming more set in his ways. He had tried talking to Sam, beating some sense into him, but Sam was far too gone for that to work. He'd tried showing Sam the better things in life but Sam had been stubbornly blind to them. He could tell him that he was playing right into the hands of the monsters with that attitude, but that would only convince him that he just had to be stronger. He could show Sam what he had become, but Sam probably knew that and accepted that because in his mind it was an acceptable casualty. He could try and convince Sam that he'd lose everything if he went down that road, but Sam was convinced he'd lose it anyways. There was nothing he could do to save Sam now, because Sam didn't want anything. All that was left inside him was anger and hatred. For everything. For the monsters who had taken everything away from him and still came back for more. For the angels who had used him as a pawn in their celestial games. For the other hunters, who, no matter badly they ever screwed, never seemed to suffer as much as him. For the world that didn't care how much he'd gone through to keep it safe. For his brother, who had promised him that he'd never let anything bad happen to him and failed to keep his promise over and over and over again. For himself, who had tried to do the right thing at every turn and failed every time. Yes, Sam was full of justified hatred and vengeance and no amount love or care Dean gave him now would bring him back. He was a sinking ship and Dean's only two options were to either sink with him or jump ship. So Dean had jumped ship.

Abandoning Sam hadn't been a decision Dean had made lightly. He knew that leaving Sam might kill the last part of his Sammy left inside Sam. But it was the right decision- the only sane decision he could've made at that point. He had Lisa and Ben now, people who loved in a way that he thought he didn't deserve and who depended upon him the way he'd wanted Sam to. He had his own life to worry about. Sam, as he was then, wouldn't have hesitated in sacrificing Dean for a good cause. And Dean hadn't been joking when he said they needed to stop sacrificing themselves. It went against every one of Dean's instincts and against everything he believed in, but he knew, without a doubt it was the right decision. He couldn't save Sam, not while he was hunting with him.

Sam hadn't given in so easily, he'd put on a very good fight. If nothing else, Sam was a master at rationalization. He still remembered how well Sam had justified his allowing Dean turning into a Vampire. He knew Dean was handsome, so the Vampire would try to turn him and not kill him. He knew about the cure, so he was confident they would get Dean back safe and sound. He knew Dean wouldn't succumb to the bloodlust because Dean was strong and Sam believed in him even if Dean didn't. He hadn't told Dean because he knew Dean would never agree to it because Dean didn't believe in himself but, like he said before, he had complete faith in Dean. And there was simply no way to get information about the alpha other than infiltration. And in the end, he had been right. Dean had come through. It was all for a good cause. Dean could argue day and night about 'good intentions' and 'slippery slopes', but he knew he wouldn't be able to budge Sam from his belief that it was all for a good cause and everything else was irrelevant. He'd been so good that he'd almost convinced Dean. Dean wondered if he'd come up with these arguments before or after he'd been turned. He'd put forward similar arguments to keep Dean with him. How Dean was the only string attaching him to his sanity. How only Dean could keep him human. How Dean needed him because Sam was now a better hunter than ever and Dean wouldn't survive long without him. But Dean had stood his ground against everything Sam threw at him. And against everything Bobby threw at him. Because even if Dean could convince Bobby that Sam was gone now, he could never convince him that they should give up on him. In Bobby's opinion, family always came first and if someone in the family went astray, you should fight to bring him back. And if Dean died in that fight, well that was how it was supposed to be- Dean sacrificing himself for Sam's sake. Well, tough Singer, Dean thought, I have more than one family now and I'm not sacrificing one for the sake of the other.

But he couldn't just give up on Sam, he realized a few weeks after their separation. No matter what Sam had become, no matter how far Sam had fallen, Dean just couldn't give up on the his little Sammy screaming for help from inside of this monster. It wasn't just that he loved his brother more than anything or missed him so much that it hurt, he owed him. He owed it to the little boy who had believed that his big brother would always keep him safe and loved him for it. He owed it to the kid who had cried after finding out the truth about monsters and cherished Dean for telling him the truth. Dean knew himself to be a good person who always had the strength to do the right thing. He knew that it was he who protected his father from being lost in revenge and despair with nothing more than a comforting arm on the shoulder and a few kind words. He knew that he had helped an angel find the right path by – well – showing it to him. He knew that he'd saved the world from being obliterated by his steadfast refusal to let an arch-angel possess him. He also knew that the strength to do the right thing came from the faith that seven-year old boy had in him. When he had given into despair and almost allowed himself to become Michael's vessel, it was his seven-year old brother he'd seen lying on the floor, looking at him with eyes in which he could do no wrong, begging him to do the right thing once more and he had found the strength to do so. And no matter how many times he saved Sam, no matter how many times he cleaned up Sam's messes, he'd always owed the boy, because without his belief, Dean might be where Sam is now.

But he couldn't go back to him either, that would just encourage the new Sam, not his Sammy. No, the trick to getting back Sammy was to destroy this new Sam. Completely and totally annihilate him. And then maybe he could salvage his Sammy from the wreckage. He could only hope that he wouldn't be too late and this Sam takes Sammy down with him. That would result in Dean succeeding to save no one but himself and though he thought he could live with that, he really didn't want to. The key to Sam's destruction was to strike at the very root of his rationalizations - that it was all for a good cause. That would be extremely difficult, since even failures would spur Sam into believing that he was on the right path but it just wasn't enough yet. And the Campbells would always be around Sam, doubting him from time to time, nevertheless encouraging him down his road. And if they ever discovered how far Sam had gone, how dangerous he'd become, they'd put him down. Dean was horrified at himself for even thinking it, but what he had to do was to take away everything Sam cared for right now- the hunt, the respect of other hunters, the fear he wanted the supernatural world to feel for him. Everything, except his control of his own destiny. Once Sam ended up with nothing and realize he had no one to blame but himself, only then would this vicious cycle of sinning and repentance be broken. Only then could he hope to have his Sammy back.

At the moment, all Sam wanted was to be the best possible hunter. So Dean would be a better hunter. He had always been a take-it-easy kind of guy, even when it came to hunting, but when Dean Winchester was determined, God knew He had something to worry about. He'd be the better hunter but in a completely different way from Sam. His way would be antithesis to Sam's. He would save lives without sacrificing any. He would not let hunting come in way of him being happy. He would make sure that everyone knew Sam as his little brother because nothing would piss Sam off more that living in Dean's shadow even when he was not there. But that wouldn't be enough. He had to make sure that this Sam's hold on his Sammy didn't get any stronger. So he'd mess with Sam's hunts whenever he could. He'd figure out which hunts Sam is likely to take and finish them before him. He'd make sure that every big success Sam has, had Dean's contribution. He'd let Sam be used as bait, put his life at risk, just so that Sam would feel the need to be protected again.

In the end, however, Dean could not be sure of anything. Whether the good-boy act Sam was putting on was his desire to actually become that once again or just his way of manipulating those around him? Whether the path he had chosen would free his Sammy from the clutches of evil-Sam or crush him forever? Whether Sam realized on some level that what he what he was doing was wrong and simply didn't care as long as it suited his purposes or did he genuinely believe in his rationalizations? Whether his actions would end the sad cycle of Sam Winchester or would they begin another round? Whether Sam could actually be saved or not? Castiel was of the opinion that Sam's actions sprung from the deep-rooted corruption that had been inside him from that fateful day of their mother's death. He thought that even if the source of the corruption was removed, the damage it had done would last and nothing Dean did would ever turn Sam back into who he used to be. And maybe he was right. Dean certainly couldn't think of any arguments against that. But when all was said and done, Sam was still his brother and Dean of not giving up his hope on the only chance he saw.

* * *

A/N: There it is. The questions I posed at the end are the ones going through my mind right now. I know I'm going to get a lot of hate-mail from Sam-fans because of the apparent Sam-bashing, but I'll defend this piece till death or till canon proves me wrong. There is something seriously wrong with Sam, if he can quietly watch his brother get turned and not even worry about him afterwards. He didn't even pretend to care. All he cared about was the hunt and for the life of me, I can't see this indifference towards his brother's well as being misguided. It was unforgivable. And no rationalizations, no trauma sustained in hell, no desires to be a better hunter and no "being rough around the edges" from non-stop hunting could justify this attitude.


	4. Author's Note

**Disclaimer:** I used to own supernatural, the boys, the Impala and everything else on the show. But then, the men in white gave me my meds and I had to take them.

**A/N**: The brothers are together on this one, if only for a short while. I really can't see a good way to end this story right now. I guess that's why I'm not on the Supernatural writing team. Although, in my opinion, it would be an extremely poor way to go if they decide that Sam's soul or a part of it is missing. So, no, I'm definitely not going the no-soul way. I might consider the demon-blood way, but that again sounds like a coop-out. I don't want some ritual to magically restore Sam to his former self and he spends the rest of his life moping about his guilt and Dean spends his life telling him it wasn't his fault. This isn't Buffy and Sam isn't Angel. I want Sam's story to be of true redemption and nothing I've been suggested so far helps, because it isn't true redemption if it wasn't truly your fault. I want Sam to have a rude awakening but right now, I can't think of anything rude enough. I definitely won't be giving an easy way out to Sam on this, even if the show-runners do.

In my opinion, Sam was at his best in season 2. He was genuinely concerned for his brother's well-being. And even if he couldn't do anything to assuage his brother's guilt about their father, he really was trying to be there for Dean. He was really worried about doing the right thing and not making the same mistakes with Dean as he did with their Dad. And he wasn't keeping any secrets from Dean. I think if Dean hadn't been so burdened by guilt and worry for his brother that could've been their best year together. Their relationship has been going downhill ever since. For Sam to go back to being that person his remorse needs to be real, not something Dean can shrug off as 'not really his fault'. All his actions need to come from him, otherwise, as I said in the last chapter, the cycle will begin once again.

Right now, I don't think Sam is above redemption, but he's too broken and misguided. I think he still loves his brother, even if he doesn't care as much as he used to. Sam has lost almost everything over the course of events and in my opinion, he thinks it's because of his weakness. He even sees giving in to demon blood addiction as a weakness. He feels as if he'll lose everything all over again if he doesn't get strong enough and he has decided not to care till he is. I guess the demon blood, Lucifer's possession, hell and a year without Dean have dulled his caring instincts into nullity and he feels he's well rid of the burden. All these have not been conscious decisions, but subconscious ones. Still, I hope, on some level he does want to be better again, because why else would he be so desperate to get Dean back? I think he feels hollow and numb right now and everything he does, like talking to Campbells about Dean, pretending to care etc are all subconscious efforts to be feel something again. But please, don't take as an admission that he's missing his soul.

I will also not be going the way of a resurrected Adam or Castiel or any other replacement for Sam. Sam has been Dean's life for three decades and you can't just replace it with someone who just happens to need you. I believe that Sam, a caring, loving, appreciative Sam is who Dean deserves and wants to be happy. So I definitely will be bringing that Sam back. I just don't see how.

I just know it has to be something big. Bigger than him falling in the cage with Lucifer, because that clearly didn't help. And Dean should have to do as little with it as possible, because I don't really like the idea of Dean being manipulative and underhanded and not saving Sam when his life is at risk. It needs to be his fault, but not something that would make him feel that he could have avoided it if only he'd been stronger. He needs to see that the road he's following is wrong, but he also needs to see the right way to become stronger. It can't be him losing or almost losing Dean. It can't be someone's betrayal. It can't be an earth-shattering mistake. He's been to all these places before. And for the life of me, I can't imagine anything worse. So I'm going to hold off the next chapter till the next episode. Hopefully, we'll get some answers then.

One last thing, please don't take this post as me hating Sam. I don't. I really think that when Sam is at his best, Dean could ask for no better brother. He's smart, considerate and more attuned to Dean's feelings that people give him credit for. He keeps Dean grounded during hunts when Dean's idealism gets out of hand. He genuinely tries not to burden his brother with his problems, even if he ends up making them worse on his own. And yes, sometimes hard choices have to be made during a hunt and Sam could help Dean make them. Dean deserves Sam, but he deserves Sam at his best and there seems to be no way to get him there.


	5. Chapter 4 : Reprieve

**Disclaimer:** I used to own supernatural, the boys, the Impala and everything else on the show. But then, the men in white gave me my meds and I had to take them.

**Summary**: They both knew they were putting off the inevitable, but both of them were glad not being temporarily estranged from each-other.

**A/N**: The brothers are together on this one, if only for a short while. I think I finally found a way get the boys back together again. But I'm not sure if I can write all the emotions Sam will have to go through realistically enough.

By the way, I saw the latest episode. I'm really disappointed that they went the whole no-soul way. I guess it's easier to write than actually turning Sam evil. Like I said, this wasn't exactly new behavior for Sam. He seemed to be on this path in seasons 3 and 4. Well, I said I would defend it till canon proved me wrong and now it has. This story is now officially AU and for the purposes of this story, Sam is in complete possession of his soul, albeit a corrupted one. So to sum it up, I was wrong, but as far as the story goes, screw canon, I'm making Sam evil and then putting him through hell and then making him good again because I don't see any other way he could be the brother Dean deserves. I might try to include some elements of the ongoing storyline, but I'll try to finish it before next week so that it doesn't become more AU. I have a hard time writing things when I know they didn't happen.

* * *

Maybe he was wrong. Wrong about everything. You don't just throw your brother to the wolves because you thought he might be one of them. You kept him close, protected him, helped him be less wolf-like. You didn't just give-in where your family was concerned, not when they had lost their way. You fought for them, every step of the way, hoping desperately that your love for them would be enough to bring them back. Because you knew that if you were in their place, they would have stopped at nothing to show you how much they loved you.

Because Sam did love him. And not just as his little Sammy. Even this new cold, detached, emotional zombie of a brother loved him. He was sure that if this Sam had to choose one person he'd save in the whole world, it would be Dean. But that love clearly wasn't enough. Not for him to see the truth and not for him to change. Because even if you love someone, doesn't mean you care. John had loved Dean. Loved him enough to give up his soul for him. But he definitely hadn't cared about his son's well-being. Even at his most devoted, Dean couldn't fool himself into believing that John had cared about his son's emotional and mental state. You didn't throw your son head-first into hunting if you cared about that. You didn't practically make him feel that he was hardly any good at hunting but no good for anything else. You didn't use him as weapon to be used when needed and put away when not. You didn't abandon him the moment you felt like it, deeming him a burden for a hunt you had been prepping him for his own life. And you definitely did not put the burden of killing his brother on him. Not if you cared even a little bit about how he lived, just as long as he did. And Sam had been the same. And Sam had been the same. Deciding what Dean needed to know and what he did not. Deciding when he needed to be told that his brother's alive. Deciding when his brother needed to come back hunting, whether Dean wanted it or not. Deciding in which way Dean would be most useful, most effective and commanding it of him without so much as a by your leave. All under the self-inflicted delusion that he was doing it to protect Dean. Just like Dad had.

He had made the right call by leaving, Dean decided. He deserved better. He deserved more than being just a pawn in his brother's games to be used and sacrificed at will. It was ironic, Dean thought, how Sam had often asked him to break free of Dad's control. How he had exhorted him to break free of an overwhelming presence that controlled every aspect of his life, yet cared so little for it. It was ironic that when Dean had finally taken that advice, it was Sam he was breaking free from, not their Dad.

That didn't make it any easier though. Dean had hoped that with him not around to clean Sam's messes, with him absent when Sam had his doubts about himself and went to Dean, seeking validation, he would crash and crash fast. It wasn't working so far. No matter how hard Dean tried, he couldn't mess with all of Sam's hunts, not even most of them. Sam was too good of a hunter for that. And the Campbells seemed competent enough to provide Sam with whatever he needed for the moment. And Dean shuddered to imagine how that would end. They were already getting suspicious of Sam. He had heard that Sam had already endangered the lives of his companions on atleast three occasions and that of a civilian on a fourth. The Campbells were hunters, first and foremost, and even they wouldn't hunt with someone they couldn't trust. The best case scenario when that happened would be they banish Sam from their lives. The worst case- Dean didn't even want to imagine it. All he could hope for was that maybe, just maybe, Sam would see the light before any permanent damage was done.

* * *

"Dean?" A voice behind him said, as he was picking up the coffee at Starbucks.

"Sam." Dean said, as the shaggy-haired man walked over to him. "You look good. How you been?"

"Can't complain. Been hunting all over the place. Monsters are going crazy if you didn't notice." Dean smiled at that. "So, what's up with you?"

"You know, same old, same old." They paused awkwardly as both of them searched for something to fill the silence. "So, I see you picked up the werewolf's trail."

"Yeah." Sam answered. "Been after this thing for a week now. You just roll into town."

"Yeah, just got the heads-up from Bobby. He didn't tell me you'll be here though. I'm gonna talk to him about that later."

"Don't, Dean." Sam pleaded. "He just wants us back together again. As do I."

Whatever reply Dean was about to give Sam was drowned in the loud honking coming from outside. Damn, Dean's forgotten about his passenger and apparently, he was getting antsy.

"Is that Ben?" Sam said, incredulously looking through the window into the car. "Ben? You brought Ben with you on the hunt? What happened to protecting your family? What happened to him never holding a gun in his life again?"

"Don't give me that." Dean replied. "Ben's been bugging me for months to take him on one of these. And Lisa sided with him. They wore me down."

"Lisa wants her son to be a hunter?" What kind of woman was Dean with?

"No. She was afraid that Ben would run away and go one of these on his own and probably get killed." Dean explained. "Her argument was that if I showed Ben that this life wasn't all glamor and heroics, Ben wouldn't want to do anything with this anymore. Some sort of reverse psychology thing."

"Well, then she shouldn't have sent him with you." Sam said. "If anyone can make hunting fun, it's you."

Dean smiled and looked down. He was unsure of how to take this compliment from his brother.

"Okay, anyway," he said finally, "so, we're here. And Ben kinda needs this one. So you think there is any way, maybe, that you could let him have it."

"No way Dean." Came the predictable answer. "I've been on this for a week. I was here before."

"Alright." Dean said, turning around. "First one to the finish line then." He turned away and walked out of the door, ignoring Sam's crestfallen expression. He had almost made it back to the car when he heard Sam's voice again.

"Dean, wait." His brother shouted as he caught up to him. "Dean could we- could we handle this one together, again please? I know I have screwed up our relationship somehow but please, just this one time, for old time's sake? Look, I'll do anything you ask. I'll let you take lead on this case. I'll follow orders. I'll do just anything man, just please, I'm begging here."

Dean considered it. On one hand his brother was clearly desperate to have him on his side, but on another, as far as he knew, none of the reasons for his leaving had changed. Or had they? He couldn't know after being out of touch with his brother for so long now.

"You promise to behave?" Dean asked with mock concern.

"I promise not to let the werewolf bite you." Sam joked weakly.

"Okay Sam." Dean conceded. "Get your ass to Tall Pines motel. We're in room three-oh-two."

* * *

They were back at the motel and Sam was filling them on the details of the case. Dean had asked him to leave out the part about the werewolf, since he wanted Ben to figure it out himself.

"Maybe it's a Wendigo." Ben guessed for the tenth time.

"In the middle of the town. I don't think so." Dean replied.

"Vampires?"

"Not without bloodless corpses."

"What about the thing you and Sam hunted that you told me about? The Lamila."

"The Lamia. No. They are extremely rare, go after little kids and don't hunt during the night."

"Okay, okay. Um – Jason Voorhees?"

"It's a werewolf, kid" Sam sounded exasperated. "The missing hearts might have been a clue."

"I didn't know werewolves went after people's hearts." Ben defended. "And it's not full moon. Not till next week."

"Its fine Ben, you did good." Dean comforted. "Now tell me how you kill a werewolf."

"I know. Uh- you cut his head off with something silver."

"Good."

"Yeah, good Ben." Sam said. "But since we don't have the money to buy that kind of silver and also since we don't like getting up close and personal with these things, we're gonna shoot it in the heart with silver bullets. That okay?"

Dean looked oddly at Sam. It wasn't like him to be snippy like this, especially when Ben wasn't completely wrong. He almost laughed out loud when he recognized the emotion for what it was. Sam was jealous of Ben. Jealous of the attention Dean was showing him because in Sam's memory, he was the only person who had ever relieved that kind of attention from Dean. He recognized the emotion because he had felt and acted the same way. Back when Sam had been sneaking around with Ruby. Or recently when Sam had introduced to his new hunting buddies, the Campbells. He had been jealous of them and now Sam was jealous of Ben. Well, turnabout was fair play, little brother.

Maybe this was a good sign, Dean thought as he went over the coroner's reports. Maybe Sam had changed for good. Maybe if he cared enough to actually be jealous and pretend not to be, maybe he was ready for Dean to be in his life again. Disappointment washed over him as his eye caught something on the report. No, his brother hadn't changed at all. As much as he pretended to, things were still the same.

"Ben, why don't you run outside and get us some sodas?" Dean said, holding out the money to the young boy. "Maybe you can pick something to eat while you are at it?"

Ben eyed the money, Dean and Sam in turn. He could sense some lingering tension in the room. Deciding he didn't want to be a part of it, he went out with a quick "Sure".

"Smart kid." Sam commented as the door closed. "He might actually make a pretty good hunter."

"You are not using him as bait, Sam." Dean said flatly.

"W-What?" Sam stammered. "No, Dean. I wasn't thinking of that."

"Really?" Dean said angrily throwing the reports on Sam's desk."Is that why you didn't mention that more than half of this things victims were teenage boys? That really relevant, pattern-making fact just slipped your mind?"

"No, Dean, please believe me." Sam pleaded. "I just didn't think it was a good idea to say that in front of Ben. I don't think he would have liked hearing that the monster was targeting boys of his age."

"You know, I thought, since you tried so hard to get this one hunt with me, that you'd atleast try to be straightforward." Dean turned away, disappointed. "Guess that was too much to expect."

"Dean, please, I'm trying to be honest here." Sam cried desperately. "Please, just ask me anything? I'll tell you anything."

"There is nothing I want to know Sam." Dean replied.

Sam stayed quiet for a moment, seemingly having an argument with himself.

"I wasn't here on the werewolf hunt." He blurted out. "I mean I was here after the werewolf, but I wasn't sent here to kill it but to capture it. We, the Campbells and me, are capturing all sorts of monsters, instead of just killing them."

"Huh?" Dean didn't seem too surprised.

"You knew?" Sam asked."You knew that the Campbells were collecting these things."

"I knew that some hunters were into the whole bag-and-tag deal." Dean replied. "Never really expected you to be mixed up with something like that."

"Why, Dean? Because it's wrong?" Dean just shrugged in reply. "Why is it wrong? It's giving us a chance to learn more about them. It's giving us a chance to save more lives. You think the antidote to Djinn poison or the vampire blood was made by testing on rabbits."

"It's wrong because these things don't deserve to be tested upon." Dena replied. "You think they wanted it to be like this, they wanted to be born or turned into these creatures. They live a miserable existence, Sam, just being slaves to their nature and its kinder to put them out of it than torturing them for information."

Wow, that was a really good argument. Sam hadn't expected that form his brother.

"What about the lives we'll save from this? Doesn't that make it worth it?"

"No it doesn't. If there is one thing I know, it's that you can't justify wrong actions by claiming your motives to be pure."

"Well, I guess it's a matter of opinion then."

"No, Sam. That's where you are wrong." Dean said sadly. "Right and wrong are not a matter of opinion. Life and death are not a matter of opinion. It doesn't matter if you don't know what the right thing to do is, if you have no way of knowing the right thing to do, all that doesn't make your choice right or even okay. It just makes you wrong."

Sam had no answer to that and they sat quietly till Ben got back with the sodas.

* * *

"You did good Ben, you should be proud." Dean said.

"Yeah, right." Ben replied sullenly.

"Dude, it was your first successful hunt. What are you so mopey about?"

"It was a kid, Dean." Ben shouted. "He was about my age. How can I be okay with killing him just because something happened to him that he had no control over? How are you okay with it?"

"I'm not. Trust me." Dean replied. "Ben, hunts like this are hard. They are supposed to be hard. Because the day it becomes easier, that's the day you have stopped caring about people you are trying to save. That's the day you have lost the only good reason you have for hunting." Dean's eyes flickered momentarily towards Sam, who was busy packing his gear.

"I – I don't think I can live with that. I don't think I want to hunt anymore." Ben said. "I think I would like to be alone for some time."

"Sure." Dean said as Ben walked out of the room. He sighed. He would have given anything for Ben not to have to go through this, but if it helped keep him safe, then maybe it was worth it.

"So, I guess it's mission accomplished then." Sam said, turning around. "Ben seems to have lost his taste for the hunt."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Probably a good thing too." Sam continued. "I mean, you don't need a kid slowing you down, now that you are playing for the major leagues."

Dena smiled. "You know, Bobby thought- thinks that's why I left your side. To prove that I'm a better hunter."

"What? Why?"

"It's just, something he said once. He said that you were a better hunter than me. He thinks that I'm just pissed and jealous and trying to prove him wrong."

"Is that why you keep messing with my hunts?"

"You know about that?"

"C'mon Dean. I may not be as good a hunter as you but I'm not a bad one either." Sam replied. "Our hunts have crossed way too many times for it to be just a coincidence."

Dean seemed to consider it for a moment, but the only response Sam got was, "Yeah, but that's not why I did it."

"Dean, if this has got anything to do with proving your superiority, I think you have done it." Sam said. "I think Bobby would agree too. You are a better hunter. Hell, I think you could teach all of us things we never thought of." Getting no reply from Dean, Sam continued. "Look, I know we treated you like an amateur. We kept you on need-to-know basis. We shot down your ideas for being too reckless and dangerous. We handled all the research ourselves because we didn't trust you with it. And you probably went on with it because it was easier. And it wasn't just me and the Campbells. Dad and Bobby have been doing the same thing for all your life. But we can change that Dean. We could give you the respect you deserve."

"That's not why I left, Sam. Atleast not completely." Dean replied. "Look, I am glad to be free from it all, free from being known as John Winchester's son or Bobby's protégé. Free from being just another one of the Campbell group. I'm a well-known and well-respected hunter in my own right, but that had never been one of my life's purposes. The reasons I left for haven't changed."

Knowing that that was all the answer he was going to get, Sam continued packing, trying to curb his disappointment.

"You are right about one thing though." Dean said after a few moments of silence. "I could teach you a lot of new stuff. Here, let me show you something." Dean grabbed the motel's notepad and pen and started drawing on it. Sam walked over to him and peeked over his brother's shoulder. It looked like some kind of devils trap.

"It looks like a devil's trap, but kinda inside out." Sam analyzed the picture. "The lines aren't where they are supposed to be, the angles are inverted."

"That's exactly what it is." Dean explained, cryptically. "It's the opposite of a devil's trap."

"So, if a devil's trap traps a demon, this sets them free?" That didn't seem useful at all. Not unless you were a demon.

"No. A devil's trap locks them down, this throws them out." Dean explained. "Basically, if this symbol comes in contact with a possessed human, the demon is cast out of the body. Remember the locking thing Meg used, even that wouldn't work against this. Usually I just draw it on my hand, and just hit the demon with it." Dean explained, demonstrating it by slapping the pad against Sam's chest. He was disappointed on getting no reaction. He had half hoped Sam would let out a scream and black smoke would come pouring out of him. "And it doesn't just work on demons. Basically any external spiritual possession is cast out by it. That includes ghosts, poltergeists and mind-control. The only catch is, if the person being possessed is already dead, it won't work. Because then the possession won't be considered external."

"So what, it casts out a demon and the demon goes back to hell?" Sam asked.

"No, it just, kind of, floats around."

"So, basically it can just possess someone else, or go back into the body it was thrown out of?"

"Basically, yeah."

"No offense Dean, but this seems kind of useless. How did you even come up with the idea?"

"Cas did." Dean replied. "Turns out, this is how he gets his nerd on. And don't you think it's useful to find out if a person is still alive before you stab the demon out of him?"

"Yeah, but you don't have time for experiments on the field Dean." Sam replied. "Back when I was exorcising demons with my mind, you know how many people I actually saved. Not even five. Of all the people I exorcised, and believe me, there were a lot, most of them were already dead. If a guy is possessed, chances are he's gone, which means this thing might as well be stick figures."

"Huh." Dean said. "Remember when you used to care about actually saving lives? When you'd fight for the slightest chance to save the monster from itself?"

"I still care. I do. But you know we can't save everyone." Dean, of all people should be aware of that. "As horrible as it sounds, when you are out there, you have to weigh lives and decide which are worth saving and which are not."

"That's no excuse for not trying." Dean replied. "Forget it. I guess people can't change after all. Two minutes after saying that you'll respect me as a hunter, you are already calling my ideas stupid."

"No, Dean, that's not it." Sam explained hastily. "Look, it's a great idea okay, and I admire you for caring so much. But, things like this sound good in speeches to little kids, they aren't practical. I'm afraid if you keep trying to save everyone, you might end up dead."

"Ain't dead yet Sam." Dean replied. "And I wasn't just saying that stuff to Ben. I meant every word of it."

"I know." Sam gave a hollow laugh. "I used to believe it too. That ended in me getting stabbed in the back and you selling your soul, remember."

Dean said nothing in reply to that and continued packing. He was well aware of the reasons for his brother's attitude. And in a way, it was justified. But that didn't make it right, even if Sam couldn't see it.

"One last thing Sam." Dean said, as he zipped up his bag. "I think I might have a lead on who brought you back. I think there is someone you should talk to, that is, if you are still interested in finding out."

"Who?"

"Amelia Earhart. I haven't been able to find her yet, but I'm sure she knows something."

"The dead aviator?"

"No, you idiot." Dean replied. "It's an alias. I haven't found out her real name yet. She's a psychic and a hunter. Well, kind of. The way that guy told me, she was less vampire slayer and more ghost whisperer. She communes with spirits and goes on astral strolls. So maybe she heard something about you coming back. Thought you could talk to her if you find her."

"Yeah, sure."

"Well, that's it then." Dean said, picking up his bag. "I guess, see you around."

"Dean, wait." Dean stopped and turned around. "Look, you are just walking out of my life again. Can't you stick around just for a bit? Look, I'm not asking you to hunt with me, but we could just hang around for a day."

"Hang around? You never wanted to hang around with me. Even as a kid."

"I know, but you always did. And you always made me. I just, miss that."

"Yeah. Sorry Sam. No can do. Its thanksgiving tomorrow and Lisa wants us back by then. So we gotta leave now." Dean answered.

"She runs a pretty tight ship, huh?"

"Yeah." Dean replied. "I'm telling you Sam, I got really lucky with her. She's okay with the long absences with few phone-calls in between. She stood up for me when her family was against us. Really Sam, a hunter couldn't ask for a better wife."

Yeah, Sam thought, Lisa was the perfect – what? "Wife?" His eyes flickered to Dean's hand. No ring. "You are not-"

"Yeah, I don't wear the ring on hunts." Dean explained, twiddling his fingers. "Don't wont the creepy-crawlies to know about my family."

"Does Bobby know?" Bobby would have told him, right?

"Bobby knows." Dean replied. "He couldn't make it to the wedding, though. It was a shotgun deal. Just me, Lisa, Ben and Lisa's sister. Spur of the moment, you know."

"And you didn't think it was important enough that I should know about it?" Sam shouted. "Dammit Dean. If my brother gets married, don't you think I would like to know about it? Didn't you think I would care?"

"I tried telling you Sam. I called you after you dealt with the apostle. I was going to ask you if you could make it to my wedding, but you made it pretty clear that you didn't wanna see me."

"Oh." Sam sounded dejected. The olive branch that Sam had thought he'd crushed could have been more than that. It could have been his ticket back into Dean's life, Dean's family. And now Dean was going back to celebrate the holiday with his family, which apparently didn't include Sam. "Can I- Can I come with you?" Sam said half-hopefully. "Just this once."

"I seem to remember you turning down a similar offer because normal made you uncomfortable." Dean said. "Why would you want that now, Sam?"

"Because you are my brother." Sam replied. "And I want to be around you."

In his gut Dean knew this was a bad idea. This could blow in his face in so many ways. But Sam was finally acting like his little brother again, if only for a while and he had missed his brother. He'd missed him so damn much. So Dean acquiesced to Sam's request and tried not to let Sam's relief alter his decision to continue hunting without him.

* * *

Alcohol burned through his throat as he sat in darkness contemplating his next move. The dinner had gone well, Dean was thankful for that. Sam had been perfect. He had been thoughtful, helpful, grateful to Lisa for letting him join them. They had avoided risky topics in front of rest of Lisa's family. All in all, Sam had acted like himself, if just for the night. And now he was skulking in the kitchen, while Dean sat in the dark living room, downing whiskey. Dean had heard Sam come down ten minutes ago, probably for water and hadn't heard him go back up. So Sam was still downstairs, probably trying to build up the courage to once again ask Dean about rejoining him, at the risk of being shot-down. And Dean didn't know if he could do it, not with Sam being all vulnerable and Sammy-like.

"Tough night?" Lisa said from the doorway.

"Yeah, you know, family re-unions are hard." Dean quipped.

"We talking about my family or yours?" Lisa asked, sitting down beside him. "Because Sam was great tonight."

"Yeah, he was." Dean replied, knowing full well where the conversation was going and realizing that Sam was probably listening to every word being said.

"So, the two of you will be leaving together then?" Lisa's way of asking if he was welcoming his brother back into his life.

"Don't think so." Dean felt proud of himself for saying that. This way he could refuse Sam without actually refusing him directly, which he wasn't sure he could do. "Nothing's changed, Liz. He is still the same person. He would still do anything for the hunt and cares nothing for people around him. I can't change that and I don't think he can either."

"You once told me that you should never abandon your family." Lisa said. "That if they were going down the wrong path, you should follow them and get them back."

"And you once told me I would never be happy with Sam around." Dena replied.

"I was wrong."

"You were telling the truth."

"I thought that was the truth." Lisa explained. "But I was wrong. You are not happy without your brother Dean, I can see that."

"Atleast I'm not miserable, like I would be with him."

Lisa let out a frustrated sigh.

"Sam wants to work out the issues with you Dean." She said. "He's trying, really trying, I can see that."

"Yeah, and all that trying will stop and things will go back to the way they were the moment I let him back in."

"Why won't you just give him a chance?"

"Don't say that Liz." Dean replied. "I have given him a lot of chances over the years. And he has let me down and hurt me over and over again. He has become this power-hungry monster with no regard or feelings for anyone but himself. He might be trying to be better to get me back, but he'll go right back after to it after I do. I'm not going to let him hurt me again and I'm not going to let him hurt this family."

Lisa noticed nothing, but Dean heard the creaking of the stair as Sam went back up. Next morning, Sam was gone before any of them had woken up.

* * *

A/N: That's it for now. In the next chapter, I'll be getting back to Sam's POV. Review if you like it. If you don't, review anyway.


	6. Chapter 5 : Reprise

**Disclaimer:** I used to own supernatural, the boys, the Impala and everything else on the show. But then, the men in white gave me my meds and I had to take them.

**Summary**: Sam uncovers some secrets about his unnatural resurrection

**A/N**: Back to Sam's POV in this one. BTW, to reviewer Jane, atleast register so that I can reply through that instead of here. The brothers might be stronger together, but they are not together. Atleast not the way Sam is right now. And this story isn't Dean against Sam, it's about Sam against Sam. It's about how the road Sam is on will bring him down, if his brother is not there to help him. That's one place they will never go on the show.

Though I guess you are right about Dean being too perfect. Dean is not perfect, I know that. He is needy, clingy, paranoid, insecure and has zero self-esteem. But he is also a good hunter and he is smart. And I don't think the show gives him credit or respect he deserves. Especially, in the new Sera Gamble regime, in all the hunts they have been, Dean's either been useless or a liability or screwed up and needed his ass saved. The only episode where he was any good was 'Weekend at Bobby's' and he wasn't even in most of it. So I guess I did write him a little too perfect, but nothing, apart from leaving Sam, seems to be out of character for him. And Sam has always gotten away way too easily. Everything since the season 6 premiere is going to be forgiven and forgotten because his soul was missing. Well, like I said, this story is AU now. In here all of Sam's actions are his responsibility and he has to own up to them. As for the others, you are right. Dean is supposed to be cold and harsh in this story. That's OOC, I agree, because the Dean on the show, is something of a doormat. But I am trying not to make him completely unfeeling. I have tried to show tha the separation is hard on him as well.

* * *

_Screw Dean. Screw Dean and his happy family and his better than everyone else's hunting skills. Screw Dean and his righteous, holier-than-thou attitude, _Sam thought as his car sped down the highway. Where did his brother get off telling him what was right or wrong? Where did he get off telling everyone that Sam was a monster? Did Dean think he wouldn't survive without him? Did he think he wasn't strong enough? He had tried everything to get Dean back by his side. He had cajoled, begged, pleaded just to have one more day with Dean. He had been willing to give-up anything for Dean to come back. Willing to give Dean anything. Anything except, Sam realized, what Dean really wanted. What Dean really needed from him.

Sam sighed as he parked the car by the side of the road and got out. He wasn't the person Dean wanted by his side, not anymore. And he couldn't be that person. That person, that helpless, scared Sammy had died long ago in Cold Oak. And Sam didn't want to resurrect him, not even for Dean. The night he had found out what Dean had done for him, what Dean had sacrificed, he had made himself two promises. The first one was that he'd save Dean at any cost. He had failed to keep that one. The second one was that he would never be that weak again. He would never hesitate, never let emotions rule his judgment because that's what had caused Dean to lose his life. And sometime in the past year, he had succeeded in becoming that person.

This new person he had become, the new Sam, could not be more different than the Sammy Dean wanted. Sammy wanted a safe normal life; Sam lived for the thrill of the hunt. Sammy wanted to feel deep emotional connections with the girls he dated; Sam was fine with paying by the hour. Sammy was painfully indecisive, arguing with himself for hours about the right thing to do; Sam was clearheaded, he saw the course of action to take and took it unhesitatingly. Sammy felt empathy for the victim's family, felt sympathy for the monsters they had killed; Sam felt nothing but sadistic pleasure at catching people's lies and killing the monster. Sammy would never risk people's lives, much less his brother's; Sam felt no compunction about throwing his comrades to the wolves if it got the job done. Sammy had Dean; Sam didn't.

But, maybe that was okay. Sam didn't need Dean, not really. It had been his subconscious desire to be like before that had driven him to beg Dean to come back. But really, Dean was better off without him. And he was better off without Dean. Maybe Dean had been the last piece of his past self that had been holding him back, still had him pretending to care about problems and moral dilemmas that, frankly, he found annoying. Maybe this way, he could finally be free of who he used to be. Maybe now that there was no-one watching him twenty-four-seven to see the slightest behavioral change, he could finally be who he was. Who he wanted to be. Sure he would pretend to care in front of the Campbells. They hadn't known him all his life, so they had no reason to suspect that he'd ever been any different. Besides, he needed help on hunts from time to time. He wasn't ashamed of admitting that. And it would've been much easier for him had one of them turned into a vampire than to watch Dean.

Sam knew there was something wrong with him. Seriously wrong. Maybe he was a monster. But he was fighting for the good side, wasn't he? That had to count for something. Whatever change the demon-blood or hell had brought about in him, it was all for good. He was still fighting for the good cause and that was all that mattered. When he was falling into the cage with Lucifer, he had thought that it would finally be over. He might have lost his way but atleast he had ended the threat to the world. Atleast his family was safe. Imagine his anger at coming out and discovering that nothing had changed. The world was still at peril, now from some new threat. Dean was still in danger from old enemies. The world had been the same crappy place it had been before. His death had been meaningless. Well, not anymore. He may have been too weak to change anything before, but he was stronger now. And he would become even stronger. Of all the hunters he knew, including Dean, he was the only one who could claim that he had given up everything for the fight. His life, his family, his loved ones. And now he had given up his humanity as well. Now he truly had nothing left to lose. All this for the sake of making the world a better place. All he hoped for, was to make a difference.

* * *

"So, you think this man will know why we are earth-side again?" Samuel asked, holding up a hand-drawn picture of an old man.

"Well, Amelia Earhart aka Rose Bradley sure thinks so." Sam replied. "And I think we should give it a shot."

"And she couldn't tell you anything else about him?" Christian piped in. "Not his name or number or location?"

"No, that would have been too easy." Sam answered. "Only other thing she got was this picture of a pizza-place. My guess is, this dude is gonna be there."

"Great. An old guy in a restaurant. Good luck tracking that down."

"Well, we kind of lucked out there." Sam said, holding up the picture of the restaurant."You see the street sign near the edge, I tracked it down to Chicago. I asked a contact over there to look into it. Turns out, the manager remembers the old guy. Says he is an infrequent customer, like once every few months. The only reason the manager remembers him is because the guy eats a lot of pizzas for an old man. All we have to do is to wait for him to show up again."

"Sam, you sure this is a good idea?" Samuel asked. "It sounds like a wild goose chase. And even if it wasn't, this might be one of the questions better left unanswered."

"Look, both of us were brought back from the dead and about the same time all the alpha monsters seem to be gearing up for a war. That doesn't sound like a co-incidence to me." Sam explained. "If someone brought us back to put a stop to it, then that thing knows what is going on and why. And if it does, it could tell us a way to stop it. Don't you think that's worth exploring?"

"Yeah." Samuel acquiesced . "Yeah, you are right. But try not to waste too much time there. We need you here."

* * *

In the end Sam didn't have to waste more than a week waiting for the man. He was a well-dressed man you'd expect to see as a caretaker of some old English Castle, but he definitely wasn't a hunter. He seemed wealthy judging from his clothes and the air he exuded, as if he owned the place and everyone in it. And in-spite of his gaunt appearance, he seemed to be in good health, considering that he had just ordered three large pizzas for lunch and asked the waiter to leave the menu behind. But other than that there was nothing Sam could tell about him and didn't know of any angle to use on him. In the end Sam just steeled his nerves and decided to play it by the ear.

"Sam? Hello." The old man said as Sam approached his table. "What brings you around here?"

So, he was the kind of man who seemed to know everything. Which meant Sam had to take it slow, feel him out before he started grilling him.

"Heard they had good pizza here." Sam replied. "Mind if I join you?"

"Be my guest." The guy said pointing to the opposite seat and offering him a slice.

"So, you know which wine would go best with this?" Sam said, trying to make light conversation.

The man smiled at that. "I must say," he commented, "you are much better behaved than your brother. He would just come in demanding things from you, as if you owed him anything."

Cold shivers ran up and down Sam's spine. "You know my brother? You know Dean?"

"Of course. I know everyone." He replied. "But I guess your point was does your brother know me? Well, the answer is yes. We have crossed paths in the past. But that's not what you are here to ask me, is it?"

Sam swallowed his curiosity. There were more important things at stake. "Well, I guess you know that I was brought back from dead." The man inclined his head in agreement. "So, do you know who or what did that?"

"Of course I do." He replied taking another bite from his plate. "I did."

Sam sat dumbstruck for a moment. This man, this old guy had brought him back from dead? Which meant he wasn't just some old guy. "What are you?" Sam asked. "And angel? God?"

"Interesting." He commented. "You came here to meet me without knowing who I was. I'll give you a hint. We were sitting right at this place when I told your brother how to put Lucifer back where he belongs."

A cold hand gripped Sam's heart. "You-you are Death. The Death. The horseman."

"Correct." Death smiled. "You should know by now that not many things are powerful enough to pull you out of the cage."

"Why? Why would you do that?"

"Why Sam? Because I thought you would be useful to me." Death answered. "Wheels have been set in motion and they cannot be stopped. I'm talking about the apocalypse, ofcourse. The great war for the power of human souls. In the end, whoever has more souls, me or God, wins."

"No." Sam denied. "No. We stopped that. We stopped the apocalypse."

"Please. I'm not talking about the hack-and-slash job that Lucifer was going for. That was unseemly and mundane. Mine is a much grander plan. Don't worry, it will take hundreds of years to come to fruition. Maybe even thousands. You will be long dead before the end."

"No, you are wrong. This is wrong." Sam said.

"There you go. So like a human." Death replied. "Right and wrong, good and evil, they are just constructs created by you human beings to provide some structure to your life. Do not go applying your pitiful mortal standards to someone so beyond your tiny human understanding."

_Right and wrong do exist_, the words came to Sam's memory. They are not just a matter of _opinion._

"What do you want from me?" Sam asked "Why bring me back?"

"You have an over-inflated sense of you importance, Sam. Just like your brother." Death replied. "Whatever part you may play is so insignificant that I can't be bothered to work out the details of your actions. None of them will change anything. You may continue doing whatever were doing or you may do whatever you like. It doesn't matter to me."

"And what about the monsters, the alphas? Do they have a specific part?"

"My agents are doing as they have always done. Bringing human souls to me." Death smiled at Sam's stunned expression. "What? You thought that I was the master of only reapers. Everyone and everything that causes death falls under my dominion. Including all of you hunters and creatures alike. You should learn something Sam. All dead souls belong to me. And those alive will be mine some day."

* * *

The Campbells had taken the news of Death's plans pretty well. If pretty well meant sitting in shock for three hours and then frantically trying to come up with a counter-plan for two days with the desperation of dying men. In the end, there was nothing they could come up with that even remotely resembled a plan. In the course of one meal, Death had decimated whatever hope Sam could have had of a peaceful future. Kill Death? Not possible even if he could somehow steal the scythe back from him. He had dispelled the rumor of its ability to kill him, but Sam was welcome to try it, only don't bother him while he was eating. Seal Death? Fat chance. According to their research, last time it had taken the entire might of heaven to put him in the cell, including the power of four arch-angels, two of whom were in a cage themselves, one was dead and the last one would sooner smite them than hear them out. Even if they could consider releasing them, that would only mean apocalypse now rather than apocalypse some hundred years later. Besides, there was no telling whose side Michael would be on after being betrayed like that by his own father. Killing all the alphas? Death seemed pretty unconcerned with their fate. Apparently it didn't matter if the hunters killed the monsters or vice-versa. They were both doing Death's work. In the end all they could do was take comfort in the fact that it all seemed hundreds of years away. It all came down to basic math now. Save as many lives as you could and hope that it would put a dint in Death's plans.

Dean had actually received the news well. Sam had given him a courtesy-call as a hunter and told him about the upcoming, new apocalypse. "Doesn't change anything." Dean had said after hearing him out. "We still gotta do what we have always done." This coming from the guy who had stood against the entire will of heaven during the last Armageddon made same feel an odd sense of despair. All they could really do right now was to hunt and try and find some way to subvert the imminent war.

Over the next few weeks Sam became the best version of the hunter he could. He was calm, calculating – 'scary' as Gwen had once put it. It was easier now, when all he had to do was to pick a path that maximized survival. Dean may not have liked his tactics, especially the ones where he put innocent lives at risk, but it was down to plain numbers now. If more people survived, better were their chances. Hell, even the Campbells were growing wary of him. They may be too scared to fall in the battle and become Death's pawns, but Sam knew the truth. They were already Death's pawns, they were already doing his bidding, just a much worse job than some of his other pawns. Which, he concluded, was a good thing. These people may not like putting their pretty asses on the line, but Sam knew it was bigger than them. Bigger than all of them combined. And if Sam had to do it for them, well, it wasn't something he wouldn't do himself.

"Gwen, you ready to head to Pennsylvania?" Christian asked as Sam was looking for a possible hunt.

"What's in Pennsylvania?" He asked.

"Possible Croatoan virus outbreak." Samuel replied for Christian. "Two towns have been wiped off the map- no explanations, and a third one seems to have a 'sudden steep increase in crime rate'."

"Croatoan?" Sam exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me? I should go with you on this hunt."

He saw as the three of them exchanged dubious looks.

"Look, you guys, I know that I scare you sometimes. But I'm the best person to take lead on this. I've dealt with this thing before and in case you don't remember, I'm immune to the virus."

"We think that's why you should stay back, Sam." Gwen explained. "You are our best weapon against this thing and you could be of best use here."

"Doing what? Sitting on my ass?"

"No Sam. Getting tested." Samuel replied, walking to the window behind Sam. "We think your blood might be the key to this thing. I'm gonna take you to the guy who has been experimenting on the monsters. We think that with your blood, he could develop some sort of vaccine against this thing. Maybe even a cure."

"Are you crazy? There is no telling how long that will take." Sam looked at his cousins in turn and turned around to face his grandfather. "Look, I'll do all the tests you want, give you all the blood you need. But I need to come with you guys right now. There is no telling how many people are going to die here. Death is gonna win a big one. You guys need me out there."

"Sorry Sam." Samuel said as a sudden pain shot up his left shoulder. "We are not giving you a choice here."

The room swam dizzyingly before him as the floor rushed up to meet his face.

* * *

**A/N**: Finally, I think I have my something big. If you thought this was bad for Sam, wait till the next chapter. It's gonna get worse.


	7. Chapter 6 : Repercussions

**Disclaimer:** I used to own supernatural, the boys, the Impala and everything else on the show. But then, the men in white gave me my meds and I had to take them.

**Summary**: He had been so afraid to have his brother taken away from him that he didn't even realize that he'd lost him himself.

**A/N**: Before even writing this, I know it will be the hardest chapter I've written.

* * *

"_Have you heard anything? Any news?... No, Tori Spelling. Ofourse I mean Sam…. The Campbells are telling everyone that he disappeared chasing a lead in Montana…. Ofcourse I'm keeping tabs on him. He maybe different but he's still my brother…. No. I chased down all the hunts in Montana. No one had seen a shaggy-haired FBI agent…. Yeah, I know he's good at covering his tracks, but I'm good at uncovering them. It's like he disappeared the face of the earth…. Cas can't find him. He has still got his tattoos over his ribs. Never thought that would come back to bite us in the ass…. Yeah, okay, I'll check that out. Call me if you hear anything alright?"_

_

* * *

_

_One. Two. Three. Four. Slash._

_One. Two. Three Four. Slash. _

That could not be right. According to Sam's estimation more than forty days had passed since his imprisonment. Of course, his estimation was sketchy. All he had to go on to tell whether it was day or night was to judge by the sliver of light coming through the blacked-out widows. And it never seemed enough to be coming from the actual sun, but he had to go on something, right. And then there were the extractions. The Campbells or whoever was taking care of him had never been stupid enough to approach him when he was awake. They would usually put him out first and he would wake up to find a new pin-prick in his arm with a cotton swab over it. His food would usually come through the slot in the wrought iron door, slid on the floor far enough so he could reach it with his restricted movements, what with being chained to the wall and all. Everything else in the room was cleaned, changed or removed when he was having his blood drawn. Well, at least they were doing that much for him. From what he could tell from the yells and screams that sometimes seeped through the doors, the other inmates weren't even afforded that much consideration.

Someone should be looking for him. Someone had to be looking for him. Dean or Bobby or even Cas. It didn't make sense. Dean was never the one to abandon his brother in need. And Bobby was like his father. Even after all he had done, all he had become, they would never leave him rotting in a cell. That is, if they knew he was missing at all. His contact with Bobby had waned over the past few months. And he had talked to Dean exactly once after the disastrous Thanksgiving dinner. No, he couldn't expect them to know. It wasn't like he was a big time hunter, slaying monsters left and right. Okay, to be fair, no one was that good of a hunter that their absence would be noted after just a few weeks. No one knowing where you were at what time was kind of the definition of living off the grid. The only ones he could count on were Dean and Bobby. And he had given up counting on them a long time ago.

If he had to pick, he would pick this as his easiest imprisonment ever. The time in hell was bad, obviously, but, on a day-to-day basis, this was better than the times he had been locked up in Bobby's cellar. There had been no clenching of the chest or sudden absence of a stomach when he had woken up in his new residence. Yeah, the visit to Bobby's cellar had the advantage of being short, but there were no hellish hallucinations plaguing him this time around. He wasn't in the throes of withdrawal this time. And he didn't feel betrayed like the last time. Not really. Even though he had trusted the Campbells, it had always been just as fellow hunters. He had never expected much from them as a family and it didn't hurt to get less. In fact, it was a good thing that they had taken him when they did and not after convincing him to consume demon blood. The way things were going, Sam would have let go of his fear of addiction and once again started on that dark road if they had pushed him even a little bit.

The thought of demon blood should have made him hurl. It should have made him feel revolted and disgusted with himself. But it didn't. Pretty much nothing made him feel much these days. And he could argue with himself that it wasn't his fault that it was hell or the demon blood that made him like this, nut the truth was, he didn't care. He hadn't cared about what he had become. He had started to wonder about himself a long time before he went back to Dean, the first time being when he had no hesitation in ending a possessed boy of eleven years. His final recognition of this change had been brought about when he had let his brother turn into a vampire. He could tell himself that it was all about being a good hunter, but that would be a lie. Truth was, he had felt free. So free. Like he had never felt in years, never before in his life. It was as if a huge burden that he had been carrying around, the weight of the world, the weight of his sins, the weight of all he had lost, it had all been just lifted off his shoulders. Disappeared. If he had not known that it was death behind his resurrection, he would have said that God brought him back like that because he didn't want to see Sam Winchester suffer any more. He had never really looked for the reasons behind this change, never really wanted to. Until now.

Honestly, he didn't really want to think about it even now. But it was impossible to send days at an end alone without engaging in a little soul-searching. If he had a soul to search that was. If he had to pick the most obvious answer, he'd say that he had always been like this. He had always been confident and self-assured. He had always had a set path he wanted to follow and no one could ever deter him from it. He had always done what he had thought was right. He had always been willing to make hard decisions, go the extra mile, like his brother hadn't. He could tell himself all that but he knew that wouldn't be true. Because even though these things were there before, there was also kindness and compassion. He had cared. He had cared about his brother. He had cared about his life, his well-being in the ways he himself didn't, even if he had clearly not cared enough. He had cared about the people they were supposed to save. They didn't use to be just numbers to him. He had cared about doing the right thing, used to agonize for hours over what the right thing was. So why couldn't he do that anymore? Why couldn't he care? When he had made the decision to be stronger he hadn't expected to give up this. It hadn't been a conscious decision and clearly not caring did not make you a better hunter, Dean had already proven that. He must have thought so, otherwise why would he give up the one thing that still made him feel human?

People in captivity often retreated to safe place, a happy memory or hope for the future to help them cope with the reality of their situation. Sam had tried that. He had tried a variety of memories from Jess lying by his side to driving down the road with Dean. Nothing had worked. Nothing had provided him with an ounce of comfort. All his memories had failed to evoke an emotion. He would unfailingly remember how each ended, and he would rather feel nothing than go through that pain again. As for hope for the future, he had none left. Even before he had been thrown into this jail, he had no visions of glory or happily-ever-afters. Like Dean had once said, it would either end sad or it would end bloody. And after that, if he was lucky, there would be heaven, which would just be an eternity of feeling nothing. And right now, that thought scared him.

That couldn't be all that life and death had in store for him, could it? Everyone cared about something, everyone felt something. Even monsters felt anger and hatred and even love. So why couldn't he? Why was he so damned, so cursed? He might have felt liberated at the absence of his burdens, but he still cared if he felt anything, right? Why else would he have been so desperate to have Dean back with him? He had been hoping against hope that his constant in this life might be able to evoke a spark of familiar emotion within him. But if he had felt nothing for his brother, then he truly felt nothing at all. He could feel nothing at all. He had become an animal and animals belonged in cages. He might never actually get out of there, but he knew that if he did and if he did get a chance to regain his humanity, his emotions, he would take it, regardless of the guilt and remorse they would undoubtedly bring.

* * *

"_Shhh. Stop squealing like a stuck pig, woudja? And stop squirming, I want to get this right…. Ahh, that's better. It's a work of art you know. Some of my best work. Well, on a human. So this has been fun. Well, more for me than for you I guess, but still all good things and all that… So, we've been doing this for a day and you must be wondering why I'm doing this. You see, Sam is my brother. Has been all my life. And you don't just give up on something like that. So when your brother goes missing, you look for him and when you can't find him, you ask someone who is most likely to know where he is. You ask them politely first, but when they lie to your face, you persuade them to tell you the truth and luckily, I majored in the art of persuasion. So, you think I've persuaded you enough or do I need to show you my thesis?"_

_

* * *

_

In the end, it hadn't been Dean who rescued him; it had just been dumb luck. Sometime, during the last few blood samplings, someone had carelessly thrown the needles on the floor. Sam hadn't even been aware of how long they were lying there. Clearly, whoever it was, did not know of the Winchester's skill with long thin strips of metal. His chains had been easy. The wrought iron door, impossible. So Sam had waited, planned and prepared. He had collected everything in the room that could possibly of use and lied in wait. The guard or guard usually opened the door a fraction to shoot him with a tranquilizer and then came in after he was out. That had been his window. The two guards who had come for the next round, never stood a chance. They were dead before they could even let out a scream. The rest of the security was laughable. Two more hunters, a total of four, to guard warehouse full of monsters. He was almost disappointed to realize that he had been kept in check by this sorry bunch. Grabbing the keys from the pockets of one of the dead men, Sam walked out into the sunlight.

He didn't know what he had expected when he finally got out. Relief? Euphoria? A sense of wonder? A burning desire to run to Dean's side? A new found respect and love for life, promising himself that he would live every moment to its fullest? He felt nothing of that. Just a dull sense of accomplishment at having gotten out. All that time thinking about how he had become an emotionless zombie, how he wanted to change and he could not summon up an iota emotion. There had been no epiphany, no great revelation. Just more of the same. He hadn't changed at all. Maybe he couldn't change after all.

What was he going to do now? He could run back to his brother, begging him to take him back, begging him to fix whatever was broken inside him, like he had begged him to fix his broken toys in the past. And Dean would take him back. This time Sam was sure of it. Dean could never deny his little Sammy anything. He would take him back in with open arms and try to fix him, try to make him feel again. But was that what he wanted? His brother had always risen to the occasion for him, but he had always lost a lot doing that. And now that the Campbells might come after him- no, he wouldn't do that to his brother, not when Dean was finally free from him. He was not going to mess up Dean's life again.

What else then? Go back hunting, hoping that some hunt somewhere would do the trick? That's what he had been doing, but nothing had helped. Life had never given him any breaks and it was unlikely to start now. With a sinking feeling Sam realized he had no other option left. He couldn't run away from it all, not when so much depended on him. He could try to do better from now on, regain some of his lost empathy. But he had no idea how it would even work. How he would make the right choice when his first instinct usually was to do the wrong thing and his second one was to go with his first one? He could try to walk backwards on this path of his and all he could hope was that he would reach where he had begun.

Dean was right about one thing though, Sam realized turning back. No one deserved to be locked down and experimented upon. No one, not even monsters. All of them were still in their cages, back there. And he couldn't just leave them there.

* * *

"_Has he called, Bobby? I'm freaking out here…. I'm at the warehouse, where else? The whole place is burned to the ground and there a lot of dead bodies here, way too many and Sam might be one of…. He came there? Oh, thank God, Bobby. Thank God. I'll be there as soon as… What do you mean he already left? Why didn't you call me sooner?... Screw what he wants. Who cares? You should have called me s soon as he landed on your doormat. Where is he now? And I swear if you lie to me… What do you mean you don't know? What the hell is wrong with you?... Well you better find out and quick. I'm not taking this crap need-to-know crap anymore."_

_

* * *

_

"Dean?"

"Sammy?" Dean's voice was filled with desperation and relief. "Where the hell have you been?"

"I'm fine Dean." Sam replied. "Everything is fine now. You can stop worrying about me."

"Screw that. I'm coming to get you. Where are you?"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"What?"

"You left me for a reason." Sam reminded him. "That reason hasn't changed. I'm still me Dean. I'm still the same hunter, the same person. You still can't trust me to watch your back."

"I can watch my back just fine, thank you very much." Dean replied.

"Dean, please try to understand." Sam pleaded. "I'm not trying to be difficult here. I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm saying I finally understand why you left me. I'm not the same Sam you used to know. I won't stop at anything for a successful hunt. There is nothing I wouldn't risk. I would say that I'm staying away because I love you and I care about you, but I'm not even sure of that anymore. I'm not even sure I know what that means."

"You can change Sam." Dena said hopefully. "We can figure it out together."

"I'm not sure I can or maybe I don't want to."

Dean laughed. "This feels like Deja-vu. Remember you leaving after you freed Lucifer."

"Yeah. And maybe if then I'd stayed gone, I might have actually changed myself. Become a better person. But I ran back scared to my big brother and nothing changed between us after all. I think I really need to figure this out on my own. You get that right."

"Yeah, I get it." Came a dejected reply.

"Dean please. Don't take this as me hurting you or abandoning you." Sam said. "If there is one thing I'm sure of, it's that I don't want to hurt you anymore. But I'm afraid that if I come back now, that's what I'll end up doing."

"No, Sam, I get it." Dean replied. "I really get it. And I'm okay with it. Really. I would just like to make sure that you'll be alright."

"Hey, tell you what, I'll call you every Sunday, telling you that I'm alive and fine." Sam offered. "That way, atleast you won't have to go through what you did."

"That's great." Dean accepted. "So what will you do now? Hunt? Alone?"

"Yeah, I guess I can fly solo. You have been doing it." Sam answered. "Somehow I don't think I would be welcomed back in the Campbell fold. By the way, I heard that Christian ended up in a hospital, all bruised and beat-up. You have anything to do with that?"

"Me? No." Dean replied. "I'm sure Christian has a lot of friends who'd love too drop him off at the hospital."

"Yeah, I'm sure." Sam laughed. "So, I guess I'll call you next week."

"Sure Sam. Be safe."

The conversation had gone easier than he had expected. Sam was grateful for that. Grateful to Dean for understanding. Truth was, even with his new-found resolve to be a more empathetic person, he was failing miserably at that. Kindness and compassion just didn't cut it in a hunter's job. You had to make harsh decisions extremely quickly and there was no room for second-guessing. And he was hunting alone, so there was no one to point out when and where he'd gone wrong. All in all, Sam's hope of becoming what he used to be was turning out to be a pipe dream. As it turned out, regaining your humanity was much more difficult than losing it.

His heart was still set on one thing though. Making a difference. Being a part of something big. Not big in the sense of Apocalypse, big in the sense of making a difference. Changing things for the better. Change that would live on long after he died. If he could not be happy himself, he would at-least make others as happy as he could before he died. Hopefully he'd get his chance soon.

* * *

"_No Clay, I'm not gonna join you on this hunt…. Why? Because it's suicidal, that's why…. Damn right I sound like Bobby Singer. You morons are gonna get yourselves killed…. Clay, they've been in hiding for hundreds of years, they're not gonna make it this easy on us. Trust me, they have something up their sleeve…. You can't kill an alpha, Clay.… Fine, do whatever you want. But I'm not coming on this suicide trip."_

_

* * *

_

It was a gathering like none before. More than forty hunters gathered together in a town, all on the same hunt. A response to the gathering taking place the next town over.

"Most you must know why we are here. Those of you who don't, fell free to chicken out after finding out." Russell, a middle-aged hunter who had lost his family to a vampire attack, had taken lead.

Sam looked around hall. One of the wealthier hunters had booked the hall for a supposed business seminar. Sam wondered what the hotel staff thought of the attendees all of whom were tugged men in survival gear. None of those in the room looked like the kind to chicken out. They all had the haunted look of men who had nothing to lose. Men like Sam himself.

"I'm not going to insult y'all's intelligence by telling you what's going on. I'm sure a lot of you have read the signs and figured out that a lot of critters are gathering in the next town over." Russell continued. "They've nearly taken over the town and are basically holdin' the townspeople hostage. Now normally that would be the job for less than half of you. Here's why it is not. Rumor has it there are a lot of alphas amongst them as well."

Clearly, Russell's big reveal did not have the desired effect. Sam had already figured out that part and by the looks of it, so had most of the others. A few clueless ones were looking around asking "What's an Alpha?"

"For you morons not aware," Russell answered to the murmuring voice, "an Alpha is the big daddy of all monsters. There has been a lot of lore about it. Almost every monster we know of, has an Alpha. Shapeshifter. Werewolf, Skinwalker. Vampire. Djinns. Ghouls. You name it and they got it. Here's the thing you might not know. Alphas are the original monsters. Their fathers, these things call them. I don't know why they are making a fuss now, but they have been hidden for centuries. So deep underground that you'd think they didn't exist. And with good reason. If an Alpha dies, he takes the entire line with him. Imagine that, here we have the opportunity to end most of the curses to humanity forever."

That one did have the desired effect. Murmurs of surprise and awe rippled through the group. That couldn't be true, could it? Did they really have the chance kill all of those monsters in one go.

"That can't be right." Sam spoke up. "My brother, Dean, killed the shapeshifter Alpha and they are still around."

Few snickers and looks of doubt were exchanged among the hunters.

"Sorry, Sammy." Russell answered. "Looks to me your brother made that up. There is no way a single hunter would be able to handle an Alpha."

"He wouldn't lie." Sam defended. But he had never confirmed the fact from Dean himself, he realized.

"You are wrong Sam." Another hunter, Clay, spoke up. "I asked him to join us on this hunt. He was too chicken to do it. He said something like there ain't nothing that could kill an Alpha."

"Oh, but there is." Russell replied. "Things like blowing them to smithereens or cutting their heads off still work. They might be tougher than the most, but they are still hurt by what kills your average monster. That's the way we'll be going."

Silence fell over the room as Russell explained their attack plan in detail. It wasn't going to be a war, just a quick battle. Many of them, in fact most of them might die, Russell explained. But they will all be remembered for ever. Maybe not by the world at large, but by the those who mattered, by people like themselves.

"What about the town people?" Sam asked. "Aren't they being kept captive? They might get caught in the crossfire."

"We ain't got no time to be worrying about them Sammy." Russell replied. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. We can save thousands, millions of lives with this. Look, the survivors can get them out of there. But this is war. And there will be casualties."

The plan itself was pretty simple. Some of the men had already sneaked into the town and lay hidden. Tonight they were going to help sneak-in the others with explosives and ammunition. The monsters were most active during night, so the attack would take place during the day. According to their info, all the alphas gathered in the city hall during the daytime for some sort f meeting. 'Battle planning like this one' was Russell's opinion. That was the point their attack would be centered. Plainly put, the plan was to blow the damn thing to hell, and then rush in and waste anything that was remaining. Sam and Clay had been teamed up for the second part of the attack.

"Glad to see atleast one Winchester's got his priorities straight." He said as he and Sam went over the plans.

"Dean has got a family now, he can't take risks like this," Sam replied. "And this is pretty much a Kamikaze attack. Our chances of survival are pretty slim."

"Dude, were you not listening? We kill the Alpha and the rest of them just drop dead."

"Russell thinks that based on some obscure lore and vision his psychic had. "The line of the creature begins and ends with its Alpha's life". " Sam mimicked. "That's pretty thin to go on."

"Now you are doubting psychics?" Clay asked. "Dude if you are backing out-"

"I'm not backing out." Sam said. "Look, just killing the Alphas would be worth this shindig. I just don't want to get our hopes up."

"Fair enough." Clay conceded as he got up. "I'm gonna go get some food. You want something?"

Seeing Sam shake his head, Clay grabbed his jacket and stepped out of their motel room. Sam continued going over the plan. It was a good one. Simple and effective. They had the element of surprise on their side and they had to work it to its maximum. Sam jumped a little as a phone rang. Clay had forgotten his in the room. Without thinking about it, Sam answered it.

"Clay, listen, I wanna join up." A familiar voice spoke on the other end. "I'm about a day away from you guys. Just don't start without me."

"Dean?"

Sammy? Oh, thank God." Dean sounded relieved. "Get the hell out of their Sam. It's a suicide run."

"Then why do you want to join up?" Sam asked.

"Why the hell do you think?" Dean replied. "Because you are there. Its suicide Sam. You can't go on it. Just walk away."

"I can't Dean. It's an opportunity of a lifetime. We'll never get a chance to kill so many Alphas at once."

"Sam, listen. You can't kill an Alpha."

"Really? Because I thought you did." Sam replied. "Did you actually kill one Dean?"

"Not exactly." Dean answered. "Let me explain-"

"You don't have to. Dean I'm doing this despite whatever you say. And you have a family now. So we definitely won't be waiting around for you."

With that Sam ended the phone call before Dean could say anything else.

It had been a good plan. It had been a really good plan.

Then why the hell had it gone so wrong.

Thinking about it now, it had all gone way too smoothly. The infiltration, the setup, all of it had gone without a hitch. They should have expected it. They should have expected the trap. Obviously if the hunters had infiltrated the monster-town, there was no reason why the monsters couldn't do the same to them. And they had. There was no other way that these things could have known about everything.

The city-hall, that was supposed to be their target, had been empty when they blew it up. And then, like fools, they had all rushed into the wreckage, looking for things to kill. And there they had been cornered like rats. Their they had made their last stand. They had fought desperately, wildly against their enemies, but they were simply no match in either numbers or strength. One by one Sam had seen them all fall until darkness overtook his vision.

When he came to, dizzy and disoriented, the first thing he saw was his own body lying across from him. A trickle of blood flowing down from the bullet hole in the forehead, dead blank eyes staring back. Then an unseen force began to pull him away from the ground.

* * *

"_Bobby- Bobby, he's dead. Sammy's dead. I was too late…. I know, I just…. He was shot Bobby, oh God, he was shot…. I don't know what to do now. I don't know what to do."_

_

* * *

_

"Hands off the tape-deck, bitch."

Sam came to with a start. He didn't even remember reaching for the tape deck.

This was strange. The whole thing was strange. They were driving down the road that never seemed to end and his brother, who was doing the driving, was twelve years old.

"Dean. What's going on?" He asked.

"Don't give me that Sam." Dean answered, not bothered by his now older brother. "You wanted to go on this joyride. And that's what I'm telling Dad if he finds out."

"This is a memory." Sam realized aloud. "This is a happy memory and that means I'm in heaven."

"Why can't this be real Sam?" Dean asked sadly.

"Well, for one, in real life you hate me and fro second, you are nine years old." Sam explained. "Dude you haven't been nine years old since, well, you were nine."

"Still, Sammy, this is fun, isn't it?"

Fun. Yeah it was. At-least it used to be. The thing that he was afraid of had happened. He was stuck for eternity feeling nothing.

"What's the matter?" Young-Dean asked.

"Nothing." Sam answered. "I'm stuck as an emotionless zombie for the whole of afterlife. But other than that, I'm fine."

"Bull-crap. You don't feel nothing Sam. You care about whether you feel or not. That means you feel something. You are just scared because you don't know what that is."

It felt strange getting big-brotherly advice from a twelve-year old, so Sam replied, "Really Dean? Because it sure feels like I'm empty."

"Of course, you are empty." Dean replied. "You have been angry for so long. Angry at the world, at yourself, but when you fixed all that, when you saved the world from Lucifer, you lost your anger Sam. It was such a big part of who you were that you are not what to fill it with anymore."

"And you think I should fill it with love?" Sam asked in a mocking tone.

"Screw you Sam." Dean retorted. "I bring you out here for a good time and this is how you repay me?"

"Don't you get it Dean?" Sam shouted. "I don't have good times anymore. All this means nothing to me."

"Don't you say that." Dean shouted back, slamming the brakes and fisting Sam's collar. "Don't you say that, you son-of-a-bitch. Don't say that our life together meant nothing to you."

"You see that?" Dean pointed at the Army-man jammed in the ashtray, "Dad was so mad at you for doing that that you cried for hours until I told you that I loved you."

"And you see this?" Dean pointed at the amulet hanging from his neck, "you gave it to me for Christmas in exchange for crappy girl-gifts, just because you loved me for trying to make it a holiday."

"And you see that?" Dean was fifteen years old now and sported a black eye under an icepack, "I got this while beating up a bully for you and you felt so guilty that you kept us awake all night to make sure I didn't have concussion."

"And see this?" Dean was sixteen and holding up a Metallica cassette, "You gave me this as a thank-you for teaching you how to drive and fro not telling Dad that you scratched the Impala your first time out."

"And remember this?" Dean was eighteen and pulled down his collar to show a badly stitched wound, "This was the first thing you stitched up on me and Dad so mad that you did a poor job, but I said it was great and chicks dig scars."

"And what about this?" Dean was twenty-two and holding up a credit card, "My only honest credit-card that I gave to you the night you left for Stanford."

"And this?" Dean was twenty-six and holding a ring. "This is the ring you bought for Jessica, but you sold it, to pay my hospital bill when I was electrocuted."

"And this?" Dean was twenty-seven and holding an ancient handgun "This colt helped us kill the thing that took our mom, that took Jess."

"And this?" Dean was twenty-nine and holding up a bone-handled knife. "We killed that bitch with this, the one that came between us."

"And know what this is?" Dean was thirty-one and holding up an empty syringe."This is what you used to save my life an year after you came back. All this is our life Sam. Don't you dare say that it means nothing to you."

Sam's heart was beating frantically in his chest. He was close. He was so close to feeling something. So close to either breaking down or shutting down forever again. Why couldn't he just let go? Why was he still holding himself back?

"I don't wanna lose you Dean." Sam said, his fears finally finding words. "I don't wanna lose you again."

"I'm not going anywhere Sam." Dean replied "I'm here for you. I'm always here for you."

And just like that, Sam broke. All the pain and guilt and remorse mixed with love and relief that he had kept bottled up, released from within him in a rising wave of emotion. The same wave that had helped him overcome Lucifer, now drove him into his brother's arms. Dean was here for him. Dean would make everything okay. He didn't have to worry anymore. He hugged his brother fiercely, afraid to let go even for a moment, as Dean rubbed soothing circles on his back.

* * *

A/N: I guess this might be the best cliffhanger I've ever written. I could realistically end the story here and have the sequel be Sam's version of heaven. Or I could continue with some unimaginable twist. What do you say I should do? One thing I'm sure of though, I'm not going to resurrect Sam. That would be too cliché. The show has done it three or four times already.


	8. Chapter 7 : Reverence

**Disclaimer:** I used to own supernatural, the boys, the Impala and everything else on the show. But then, the men in white gave me my meds and I had to take them.

**Summary**: As it turned out, Sam's dark destiny always had a plan for him. Even when he derailed one, there was always a back-up.

**A/N**: Hey, everyone. I don't know why, but most of you seemed under the impression that I was done with the story. If I remember rightly, I said that it was a cliffhanger and I could realistically end the story. Could, not would. The only clue of the resolution of the cliffie I gave was that Sam wouldn't be resurrected. I guess this chapter will make it clear that I never intended to end the story at that point.

* * *

Pain. That was the first thing he was aware of. A big splitting head-ache. Which was odd, because there wasn't supposed to be any pain in heaven. Did this mean that he had been resurrected again? By Death? Or God? Or Castiel? Or, God forbid, Dean? He tried to raise his hands to his head only to discover that they were tied behind the chair he was sitting on.

"Finally," a familiar voice said. "You are awake. I've been waiting a long time for this, you know?"

Sam looked up to see his grandfather standing in front of him. He and Samuel were in a dingy room with boarded windows that definitely did not belong to any of their bases Sam had been to.

"So Sam, did you have a nice dream?" Samuel asked. "I know that getting off the genie juice can be a little disorienting, but we couldn't let you remain under forever. Atleast you got to have what you wished for, right?"

Djinn Poison. That explained it. It was all a dream, a hallucination. None of it was real. No, that wasn't true. What he felt there, was real. What Dean had said to him there, it was all the truth. Steeling himself, Sam looked his grandfather in the eye.

"Not exactly." He replied sarcastically. "Your head is still attached to your body."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I thought this," Samuel said, gesturing to himself, "would make you feel more at ease. I didn't know you felt that way about your grandfather. Maybe this will be a better choice." With those words Samuel effortlessly changed his form. "Better now?" He asked in Dean's gruff voice.

Sam's eyes widened at the transformation. Even though Russell had told him, even though Dean had said it himself, Sam hadn't wanted to believe that Dean had failed in completing the job. But right now, the proof was in front of his eyes. It was the Alpha shapeshifter.

"So you are alive." Sam said with all the bravado he could muster. "How did you survive meeting Dean? He is not the one to leave a job unfinished."

"Your brother?" The creature looked surprised. "I've never met Dean. This- this is from the pictures I've seen of him."

"And barging in our camp to kidnap the baby doesn't count?"

"Ohh, that." Realization seemed to dawn on him. "You mean our father. Our previous father, that is. I'm the father now."

"Huh?"

The Alpha took a chair from the corner and sat down in front of Sam.

"Alphas don't live forever, Sam." He explained. "What, you thought that one guy has been at the top for thousands of years and never been caught by the likes of you? We have lost countless leaders over time. Every time an Alpha dies, the next in line takes his place. That's true for all the creatures out there who have an Alpha. It's not so much as the first one that's an Alpha, but the one that's the oldest or the most powerful. You should have realized this sooner. You can't kill an Alpha unless you wipe out the whole bunch of us."

So that's what it all meant. That's what Dean had meant when he had tried to tell him that no one could kill an Alpha. He should've listened to him He wouldn't be in this position if he'd just listened to Dean. And the others- they might still have been alive.

"So, what am I still doing here?" Sam asked. "Why not just kill me and be done with it?"

"Kill you?" The Alpha looked genuinely shocked. "We wouldn't have gone to such lengths to get you just to kill you. Why, we even faked your death so your brother won't come looking for you."

His own blank eyes staring at him flashed through his mind. It was a dead shapeshifter.

"Sam, you are too important for us. We sacrificed one of our own for your sake." The shapeshifter continued. "When we heard that you were among those incompetent bunch, we all just put aside our differences to work together, just like you wanted us to."

"What?" Sam asked, perplexed.

"What do you think the war was about Sam? All of us 'freaks' were going to war with each-other for your sake. You were the grand prize. Whoever won the war would get to bask in your glory. We were geared up to fight each-other to death until you showed us how wrong you were. When you burned down the warehouse full of – well – our people, you made us realize that we were all children of the same. Kids shouldn't fight for their parent's attention, they should learn to share. This gathering here was an attempt on all of our parts to learn how to share."

"You are crazy." Sam said, now utterly confused. "You are nuts. Do you even know what you are saying?"

"You don't realize it." The shifter said sadly. "You are our father Sam. You are the first Alpha. You are the one who made us all."

Sam just continued staring confusedly at him. How could he be the first Alpha? Did he time-travel to the stone-ages and not remember?

"Well, technically not you." The shifter said. "But your predecessor. The one before you."

"The one before me what?"

"The first vessel of Lucifer." The reply came. "What did you think happened to the first vessel after the angels cast Lucifer to hell, huh? The story goes, that he had said yes to Lucifer because he hated humanity and he hated being human. He wanted to be so much more. He wanted to create things which were so much more. And even after his master was gone, he didn't stop. We don't know how, but he created all of us from his blood, his demon infested essence. Oh, there were monsters before us, but none who originated from your kind. He took the weak, fragile humans as clay and molded them into us. And now that blood runs through your veins."

Cold dread swept over Sam. Demon blood- the bane of his existence. It had been ruining his life since he was six months old and even now it was still destroying whatever little he managed to achieve.

"Whatever you want from me, I'm not gonna do it." Sam said defiantly.

"But you are already doing it Sam, don't you realize?" The Alpha said, "Your very presence grants us power. We are never stronger than when we are by your side. Haven't you noticed? Your presence has been felt by every single one like us around the world. Why do you think that suddenly creatures that have never set foot on this land are immigrating from the world over? Why do you think we are all able to break patterns now, when we have been trying to do so for centuries? It's your very existence Sam. It's the blood in your body. It's like experiencing roids and rapture together. For us, this is the Second Coming."

Sam sat devastated. He had been the cause of it. This was why he was so essential to Death's plan. His presence would strengthen them and allow them to kill more. He was not a part of the solution, he never had been. He had always been the problem.

"And when you are finally ready," the creature spoke, "You will create more brothers and sisters for us. We know you will see it our way. It's just a matter of time, Sam. We all have faith in you."

* * *

He was the problem. He had always been the problem. All his life, however hard he struggled against it, his very existence had been the bane to humans everywhere. No matter how hard he tried, his cursed life destroyed everything he cared about. And he had always made the wrong choices.

He had never listened to his brother. That was the problem. Dean had been right at every turn. He had warned him about wanting a normal life. Warned him about being consumed with revenge. Warned him about the demon blood and the demon he was sucking it from. He had even had reservations about saying yes to Lucifer. He had, unknowingly, tried to protect Sam from this and Sam had ignored his warnings every time. He had been so desperate to escape from Dean's shadow, so desperate to be his own man, so desperate to be a grown-up that he had never stopped to consider the consequences of his actions.

He had hurt Dean. He had hurt him so much and so deeply on his quest for independence. Of all his sins, that was the one he could never forgive himself for. All others could be attributed to manipulations of fate and demons. And Dean had never held them against him. But the ones that had hurt him the most were Sam's own choices. He couldn't blame anyone else for those. And now I seemed that he couldn't even make up for those.

He had made a promise to himself in his presumed afterlife. He had promised himself that he ever got another chance, probably his hundredth; he wouldn't waste it this time. He would spend his life making it all up to Dean, because Dean was worth it. But now it seemed as if he wouldn't even be given an opportunity to do that. Not while he was chained to the wall of a prison cell after his two failed suicide attempts. He couldn't even die correctly. His only hope had been that Dean would somehow find him and put him out of his misery. But that hope had been crushed as well. According to what he had heard, Dean had found the bodies in the abandoned town and burnt them all. He had no reason to believe his brother was still alive. And now no one was even looking for him.

No one except for monsters, that was. Creatures swarmed all around him, creatures he didn't even know existed and some, he thought, were extinct. He didn't know whether they were in some other abandoned town or hidden in the middle of New-York, but new things just kept coming. All wanting to be as close to him as possible. All getting stronger every day due to his presence.

* * *

"I would have turned you, you know?" The man before him said.

Sam looked up from his confined position against the wall. Every few days one of the Alpha's would come in and try to convince him to turn to their side. Their arguments ranged from how he was already one of them to how his people had abandoned him. Today, it seemed, it was the vampire's turn.

"I wanted to turn you into one of us." The large black man continued. "One of my kind. I guess all of us did. But that would have been a mistake. I see that now. You are just perfect as you are."

"Go screw yourself." Sam said tiredly. He didn't know how much longer he could last. He wasn't strong, not like Dean. Between the hallucinations the djinns gave him and the rest of the mind-tricks others had up their sleeves, he felt close to the breaking point. But he couldn't give up now. Not after everything. Unknowingly, the vision of Dean that the Djinns had given him were now giving him the strength to hold on. _Just think of Dean_, he told himself, _just keep thinking of Dean_.

"Sam, I don't think you realize your position here." The Alpha Vamp said."You have nowhere left to go. Wherever you are, we'll find you. If you kill yourself, we'll find a way to bring you back. You can't run, you can't hide. And there is no one out there who wants you. No one is looking for you Sam."

As if on cue, sudden shouts erupted outside the cell area as four shots rang out. Sudden hope flared in Sam's chest as the Alpha looked back in confusion.

"What's wrong?" He shouted. "What's going on out there?"

He didn't know, Sam realized. He didn't know how close to death he was now. Dean was here. Dean had walked into hell to for him and now he was going to save him from it.

To anyone else Dean's entry would not have seemed too impressive as he rushed in with a desperate look on his face and a panicked "Sammy" on his lips. It certainly didn't seem to faze the Alpha as he turned towards the threat.

"You?" The vampire snarled and even though his back was turned to him, Sam could tell the fangs were descending. "You picked the wrong day to mess with us boy." He pointed over his shoulder while advancing towards Dean, only the bars of the cell between them. "With him near me, you can't hurt me even a little."

Faster that Sam's eyes could follow, Dean threw something at the vampire. His eyes widened in shock as blue sparks ran through his body. He stood looking down at his chest for a moment then keeled over dead and Sam saw a scythe sticking out of it.

"Sam." Dean shouted raising the shotgun at him. Sam's blood ran cold. Dean wasn't here to save him, he was here to kill him. It was okay, Sam thought, that's what he had wanted wasn't it? "Get down." Dean finished.

Sam barely had the time to register and follow the command when a shot rang out above his head. He turned to see one of the protective sigils placed all over the jail being blown apart by the blast.

"Cas, now." Dean shouted.

So, it was a sigil to keep angels at bay, Sam realized numbly as Castiel appeared beside him. He made short work of the restraints binding Sam, but then surprised him by throwing him back on the bed and ripping the front of his shirt open.

"Brace yourself, Sam." He said pulling out a blade. "This is going to hurt."

Sam was about to ask what when Castiel started cutting him with the blade, drawing on him, as it were, with the blade moving in arcs and lines. Sam cried weakly and tried to resist but his attempts were shunned away by a clearly impatient angel.

"Cas, what the hell?" Dean shouted from outside the bars, trying to work the lock open. "Get away from him."

By the time Dean finally made it inside and shoved Castiel away, he was already finished. Sam looked down to see a vaguely familiar pattern on his chest.

"What the hell Cas?" Dean shouted. "You were supposed to use a marker."

"I apologize." Castiel said. "I forgot to bring one in our haste. So I had to improvise."

Sam hadn't realized it before, but there were screams and cries coming from all over the outside. There were others, he remembered suddenly. Not other monsters, but other humans held captive by them. They shouldn't be here wasting time on him when they could save people actually worth saving.

"Dean, there are others- people- they need.." Sam tried to say weakly.

"Cas, go." Dean commanded. Seeing Castiel hesitate, he said, "I can handle it from here on. Go, help the others."

With a nod Castiel disappeared. Dean turned towards his brother and said, "Sam, try to stay quiet okay? This is gonna hurt real bad."

It was the same thing that Castiel had said, Sam realized as Dean pressed down his palm on the newly made wound and pain burst through every fibre of Sam's being. This was worse than any pain he'd ever felt, he realized, worse than blood withdrawal, worse than hell. His blood felt like it was boiling and electricity seemed to run through his body. Inspite of Dean's request, he let out a blood-curdling scream.

Someone was coming, he vaguely realized through the subsiding haze of pain, probably the creatures that had kept him prisoner. They were coming for him and Dean was here all alone. Cas was gone to help the others and if Dean didn't run now he'd be killed, just like all the other hunters. He couldn't escape with Sam, not with Sam like that. Fighting unconsciousness with all his will power Sam said, "They are coming Dean. You have to get away."

"I'm not leaving you again, Sam." Dean said, bending down and pulling out the scythe from the dead vampire's chest and turning to face the approaching threat.

"Dean, please." Sam begged. "You can't fight them all alone."

"I'm not alone." Dean said, raising his right hand to his chest and turning a ring on his finger. "Descend, Seraphiel."

A bright flash of light filled the room as Sam finally lost consciousness.

* * *

When Sam groggily made his way back to consciousness, he knew several days had passed since his last imprisonment. He could vaguely remember vague flashes of puking up blood and fevered hallucinations that had kept his internal clock running, but couldn't really be counted as being awake. It was like waking up from a terrible nightmare, but as in the past, Dean was there when he woke up.

"Sorry about your new scar." Dean gestured at his chest that now sported healing remnants of Castiel's artwork. "Cas was supposed to use a marker. But now you have something to talk about on your next date."

Sam looked down at his chest. He knew it had looked familiar. Now he recognized the design as the one Dean had shown him, one that expelled demons.

"I wasn't possessed, Dean." He said numbly.

"I know. This is a modified version of that." Dean explained. "This basically expels all external supernatural substances from your body. Once we figured out that it was your demon blood that was juicing up the creeps, Cas came up with this to fix that. I'm telling you man, he is a bigger nerd than you."

"It's all gone?" Could it really be true? Was he finally free from his cursed blood.

"Not the part Azazel fed you as a kid. That's a part of you now." Dean said. "But the rest, yeah, its gone."

"It wasn't the demon blood, Dean." For some reason, he felt it was important that Dean should realize it. "It was never the demon blood. Everything I did, it was all my choice."

"I know." Dean said sadly.

"What happened back there? How did you know I was even alive?."

"I couldn't burn your body with the others." Dean replied. "I didn't know what to do. When I was taking it back, the skin started falling off. That's when I realized that they wanted you for something more than food. And when I figured out where they were keeping you, I got Cas and the angel patrol to help me clean the house."

"And all of those things are dead?"

"Most of them." Dean said. "Some escaped and there are plenty more out in the world to take their place."

"And the angels just helped you out of the goodness of their hearts? That doesn't sound like them."

"Hey, they couldn't refuse. I got this." Dean said, waving the ring on his finger at Sam. "Besides, Cas and his bunch owed me big time. I helped them win the war."

"Huh? Look at you." Sam said. "You are not Michael's vessel but you still end up becoming heaven's general."

"Yeah." Dean smirked. "I'm badass, aren't I?"

Sam smiled in return and looked down to study his nails. Everything was okay now. Dean had fixed everything as usual. He had made a mess and Dean had cleaned it up and everyone was okay again. For now,

"Why am I here Dean?" Sam asked. "Why haven't you killed me already?"

"No point in that, Sam." Dean answered. "Without the demon blood, you are just another hunter."

"So what?" Sam shouted. "I always screw-up. There is always something with me that's going wrong. It's just a matter of time before I bring you down again and you don't deserve that."

"Self-pity doesn't become you." Dean said in an even tone.

Sam looked away ashamed. He remembered the resolve he had made so many times, a resolve that always faded away after getting back to his brother. HE wasn't going to let that happen again.

"I'm sorry Dean." He said, not meeting his brother's eyes.

"For what?" Dean asked in the same tone.

"Jeez, the list is so long Dean." Sam looked up. "It will take me a whole day to go through it."

"Well, we got all the time we need Sam. And you need to say it." Dean shouted.

"I'm sorry for everything, okay." Sam shouted back. "I'm sorry for letting you down again and again even after you believed in me. I'm sorry for treating you like crap when all you did was care for me. I'm sorry for always trusting and picking others over you when you always chose me. I'm sorry for-for thinking that you were weak and good-for-nothing when you have proved over and over again that you are so much better than me. I'm sorry for leaving you when all you wanted was to be a part of my life. I'm sorry for shutting you out of my life, for making those decisions for you when you have always treated let me make my own. I'm sorry for thinking that being cold and ruthless made me better while it led to me losing the only thing that mattered anymore. I'm sorry I got so obsessed with the hunt and revenge that I lost sight of what was important. I'm sorry for being the person who'd risk his own brother's life like that. I'm sorry for all the lies and the mistakes when you have shown me again and again that you'll always forgive me. I'm sorry for putting you through hell." Sam was sobbing now. "I'm sorry for hurting you so much that you could finally take it no more. I'm sorry for everything, Dean. And I'm sorry, but I don't know if I can be the person you could trust again."

Sam was looking down on his lap as tears fell from his eyes. He had been desperate for this. Desperate to feel again if it only brought pain and remorse. He felt the bed dip as Dean sat down at the edge of the bed.

"Thank you Sam. I needed to hear that." Dean said evenly. He gently placed his hand on Sam's knee. "Look, Sam, there is no denying that you have hurt me a lot. And I have hated you for that." He sighed. "But being with you also made me happy. Happier than I have ever been. That's why I will do anything to get you back like you were before."

"I don't wanna hurt you again, Dean." Sam said looking up at his brother. "I don't want to risk that. I don't think I can be the person you want me to be."

"That's no excuse for not trying." Dean replied.

"I have been trying. Ever since I got away from the Campbells, I have. But I don't think I can. Not without your help." Sam looked imploringly at Dean. "But I know that after everything, I have no right to even ask, but right now, I'm asking all the same."

Dean nodded to himself, seemingly considering the plea.

"Alright then." He said finally. "You will be back on your feet in couple of days. We can go back and stay at Lisa's for a while. Then, when you feel like it again, you can start hunting."

"Just like that?" Sam looked up in surprise. "All is forgiven, just like that?"

"No Sam, all is not forgiven." Dena replied. "You have got a hell of a lot to make up for. All I'm doing is giving you a chance."

"Why?"

"Because you asked for my help." Dean said with finality. "You have never asked for my help to be a better person and meant it. You have asked me to help save your soul, get redemption and help you get revenge, but you have never said you wanted me around because it made you a better person. That tells me that you have really changed, Sam. Part of being a grown-up is knowing when to ask for help and now I feel like you have finally grown-up."

"I don't want to make any promises that I might not keep." Sam said through teary-eyed smile.

"Me neither." Dean replied. "Let's just take it one day at a time, Sammy."

One day at a time. That sounded like a good plan. Sam hadn't become what he had in a night and he wouldn't be all better in one either. But he could do this. He could get back his humanity with his brother's help. One day at a time.

THE END

* * *

A/N: That's all folks. This story is over for good now. I guess this chapter will make it clear that I always wanted to end it this way. I had mentioned Dean's ring of Solomon back in ch3, the sigil of repulsion in the next chapter and Dean demanding things from death in the next one. I feel I need to explain this because I feel that this chapter is a bit rushed. Whatever unanswered questions that remain will be dealt in the sequel. The sequel won't be a sequel as such, but more of one-shots about the guys' lives afterward, set in the same 'verse. Any making up that Sam does will be in the sequel as well. It will be updated sporadically as ideas hit me.

Though currently the show is not making me feel much better about Sam, soulless or not. Ten minutes after promising Dean that he'd be honest, he starts lying through his teeth again and Dean just takes it. Does nothing more than shout. He even leaves the option of leaving to Sam, so if he had left, once again Sam would have left Dean. And the Campbells are as deprecating and condescending as ever. And Dean seems to doing anything to discredit their opinion. The fact that he was right all along, about everything, doesn't seem to matter one bit to anyone. It's like they're thinking, "So what if he was right this time, he may not be the next time. So I'm not gonna listen to him and do whatever I want or what some shady, untrustworthy character tells me to." Sorry, that may have sounded specific but it was aimed at all the characters of the show.

Anyway. I'm thinking of writing another story. Not in the same verse, but one where Dean turns into what Sam is like now. I would be hard right evil Dean, but I feel that he is being such a goody doormat lately, that he should get a chance let his inner demon, the one we saw in DALDOM out. Tell me what you all think. About this story, about the sequel and about the new idea.


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